The Ryan Chronicles (Republished for inaccuracies and errors)
by LiteraryWitch
Summary: In 2016, college student Sam works on a project on the Titanic. She is hurtled back in time, where she meets our favorite Irishman and has to decide where her loyalties lie. Will our spunky heroine survive the sinking, or will she be doomed as well?
1. Opportunity of a Lifetime

_**April 10, 2016**_

As 22 year old college history major Samantha Miller revised her notes, she turned the volume of her music even louder. Loud music helped her focus. Currently she was listening to Gypsy by Basya Schecter. Sam went through the finer points before hopping on her laptop and saving the changes on from her handwritten notes to her digital ones.

She thought she heard a noise, but brushed it off. With headphones, her hearing was fifty shades of screwed up. But the noise and the cold built up until it was a full on twister. It blew the windows into pieces, and Sam swore. She was never getting her security deposit back. She screamed in terror and panicked. She was frozen in fear and she couldn't move.

Finally after what seemed like ages, the storm subsided. But something was wrong. Sam looked down and nearly screamed again. Her blue jeans and black butterfly tee were gone, and in their place were a tan travel jacket over a pressed white shirtwaist and swishy black long skirt. Her long unruly black mane was pulled back into an Edwardian coiffure, and she even wore a small hat and earrings to complete the look. She was carrying a suitcase as well, full of similar clothes, books, and even photos of people that looked surprisingly like...

 _ **My family,**_ she realized with a jolt. Her eyes filled with tears again at the memory of That Dark Day. Sam asked a man, a well dressed Englisher the time and date. "I've hit my head, you see. I have no idea where I am or even the year." He smiled kindly.

"Of course, miss. Southampton, England. April 10, 1912."

 ** _Crap crap crap! This can't be real. This can't be real_.**

She wandered around until she found a roadside bar and ducked inside. She could think in there. So she had timetraveled. It was possible after all.

Meanwhile, a few tables over, there was an intense poker game going on. It was between 20-year-old Jack Dawson, a travelling artist from Wisconsin and his Italian friend, 19-year-old Fabrizio De Rossi, against three Swedish cousins, Olaf, Gustav, and Sven Gunderson. "Hey, you guys mind if I join you?" asked Sam. "Sure," said Jack, shrugging and introducing himself and Fabrizio. He handed her some cards. "There's three tickets, so if we win one is yours."

"Tickets to what?" asked the American girl. Jack pointed to the huge ship docked in the nearby harbor. "The Titanic, of course." Sam gasped. She had seen photos of it, but seeing the real thing up close and personal was a whole other story. It was sad but also majestic. Even though Sam knew there was a chance she wouldn't survive the sinking, she had to at least try to get back home. "Fine, I'll play. But you better have a damn good hand."

"Bastard! Idiot!" Olaf growled.

"Shut up!"

Fabrizio looked at his cards, realizing he didn't have anything. He was getting nervous; Jack had bet every cent they had.

"Jack, you're pazzo! You bet everything we have!" he said. Jack blew out a puff of smoke from his cigarette at Fabrizio.

"When you've got nothing, you've got nothing to lose," he reassured him. Fabrizio shook his head, skeptical.

The Swedes were still arguing. "You idiot. I can't believe you bet our tickets," said Olaf. Sven replied something that none of them could understand.

Jack took a long drag on his cigarette. "Alright. Moment of truth, someone's life is about to change, Fabrizio?" he asked.

Fabrizio shot him a dirty look and shrugged, indicating that he had nothing. "Niente," Jack noted.

"Niente," Fabrizio confirmed with a death glare. He was going to kill Jack if their cash was lost.

Jack looked across the table. "Olaf? Sven?" he tried.

Sven picked a card and placed it on the table. "Hit."

Jack examined his cards, seeing that he had a full house but decided to play a trick on his friend. "Uh-oh, two pair. I'm sorry Fabrizio..." he started.

Fabrizio was infuriated and slammed his cards down on the table. "Che sorry?! Vaffanculo! You bet all our money!" he tried to say but was cut off midsentence by Jack. "I'm sorry! You're not going to see your mom again for a long time..." he continued, "CAUSE WE'RE GOING TO AMERICA, FULL HOUSE BOYS!" he yelled, slamming down his own cards.

"Dio mio grazie!" Fabri yelled happily. "Holy shit, I don't believe this!" said Sam disbelievingly. "You fucking won!"

Jack was whooping triumphantly, but Olaf grabbed him. "Förbannade usling!" he hissed, about to deck Jack. Jack cringed, but Olaf punched Sven instead, who went flying off his chair to the floor. Olaf grabbed him and slammed him repeatedly on the ground, cursing that he was going to kill him. Jack laughed.

He turned to Fabrizio. "Come on!" "Figlio di puttana!" Fabrizio shouted.

Jack whooped again and kissed the tickets. "I'M GOIN' HOME! I'm goin' home!" he laughed, overjoyed at his luck.

Fabrizio skipped round the pub in excitement. "I go to America!" Sam laughed at their exciteeint

Just then, the pubkeeper chimed in. "No mate...Titanic go to America, in 5 minutes!" he said, holding up his pocket watch for them to see.

Jack looked at the clock. "Shit! Fabri, Sam, come on!" he exclaimed. They quickly scooped their winnings into Jack's huge sack and ran out of the pub with their things.

They ran through the crowded streets of Southampton, dodging in and out between people. "We're riding in high style now! We're a couple of regular swells! We're practically goddamn royalty ragazzo mio!" Jack was yelling.

Fabrizio was panting to try and keep up with him. "Si, is my destino! Like I told you, I go to America to be millionaire!" he shouted, nearly getting trampled by a horse.

"WHOA!" Jack yelled. "Bastardo!" Fabrizio shouted at the horse.

They kept running. "You're pazzo!" Fabrizio yelled.

Jack laughed. "Maybe, but I've got the tickets! Come on, I thought you were fast!" he shouted over his shoulder. Sam sped past them. "He might not be, but I sure as hell am. What's wrong, can't outrun a girl?" she teased, breathless from her little gallop.

Fabrizio was running as fast as he could. "Aspettare! Aspettare!" he yelled, wheezing.

They ran up the steerage boarding ramp, just as the officer was getting ready to close the doors. "Wait! Wait we're passengers! We're passengers!" Jack yelled, waving his hands. They ran up to Sixth Officer Moody, who held out his hand for their tickets.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" he asked.

Jack glanced at Fabrizio. "Of course. Anyways, we don't have any lice, we're Americans...all three of us," he lied.

Officer Moody nodded. "Right. Come aboard."

Jack and Fabrizio could barely believe their good fortune. They ran as fast as they could down the corridor up to the steerage deck, where people were going to wave goodbye. "We're the luckiest sons of bitches in the world, you know that?" Jack hissed excitedly.

They ran up to the deck where all the other steerage passengers were lined up against the rails, waving and shouting goodbye to family and friends. Jack and Fabrizio hopped up onto the rail, too, and waved excitedly at the hundreds upon hundreds of people below.

"Goodbye, I'll miss you!" Jack yelled, waving wildly.

Fabrizio was confused. "You know somebody?" he asked.

"Of course not, that's not the point!" he explained.

Fabrizio nodded. "I'm never gonna forget you!" he yelled. "See you, Southampton!" called Sam.

Once the Titanic left port, the passengers went back inside to find their cabins and settle in. Jack looked at their tickets. "G-60," he said, reading their tickets. Fabrizio nodded. They made their way down to G deck and started down the first corridor. "G-60, G-60..." Jack was mumbling as Fabrizio jogged to catch up with him.

Jack accidentally bumped into someone. "Excuse me, sorry," he mumbled.

They rounded the corner just as the Norwegian Dahl family was about to round the corner from the opposite direction. Fabrizio caught a glimpse of their daughter Helga, and he stared, clearly lovestruck.

Fabrizio and Helga held their locked gaze and smiles.

Sam noticed him staring at the blonde girl. "Damn, Fabri, do you have a crush on her already?"

Fabrizio glared. "Shut up!"

"Ah, G-60! Right here!" Jack announced, finding their cabin. Sam's cabin was G-58, so she separated from the other two and dragged her heavy suitcase to her room. Fabrizio turned to follow Jack as he opened the door, then he glanced back for a last glimpse of Helga.

Sam looked around her room. There were two bunk bed attached to each of the off white walls and each bed had its own curtain for privacy. A washstand was in the middle. Maybe she could be happy here. _**Steerage is more comfortable than I had originally assumed.**_


	2. Dolphins: Meeting Tommy

Sam went back up on deck with Fabri and Jack, where the sun was glinting off the ocean and the weather was absolutely gorgeous. Jack and Fabrizio were so incredibly happy-go-lucky, Sam considered herself happy to befriend them. They were the most real and carefree men she'd ever known. The three of them decided to explore some more before mealtime.

They ran all the way down to the bow of Titanic and on the ropes. Jack leaned over and looked at the water. The ocean was sparkling like the Lake of Shining Waters in Anne of Green Gables.

Jack looked down and saw a group of dolphins. "Hey, look, look, look! Look, look! See it?" he said happily. "There's another one! See 'em? Look at that one! Look at that one! Look at him jump!"

As if to illustrate Jack's point, one of the dolphins executed a spectacular jump. "Cool!" Sam crowed. "Woo-hoo!" yelled Jack. He whooped again happily. Fabrizio pointed to something in the distance. "I can see the Statue of Liberty already. Very small, of course!"

"I'm the king of the world!" Jack shouted, pumping his fist into the air. Sam laughed as the other two whooped and howled like wolves. They were clearly having a ton of fun, and Sam allowed a great big dumb guy smile to creep onto her face too. To win tickets on a ship this nice was sheer dumb luck, even if Titanic was doomed.

The rest of that day was spent exploring the ship, or the parts of it that were allowed to steerage anyway. Sam was amazed at just how big it was. She had read that Titanic was as long as three football fields, but seeing it was a whole other story. She kept getting lost among the veritable maze of steerage corridors. She also met several new friends.

There was Natalia, a Russian woman who spoke heavily accented English, a Spanish woman called Maria who was loads of fun, and Maggie, the mother of two she, Jack and Fabrizio had passed in the hall. Her son John was especially mischievous, but his sister Emily was quiet and sweet and loved Sam's stories about the world of Harry Potter.

Dinner that night was especially scrumptious. Gruel turned out to be some kind of oatmeal that didn't taste half bad, and the bread accompanying it was delicious too. Sam liked playing on the Steinway and she was very fond of the books in her travel bag too.

Samantha slept fitfully that night, despite how comfortable her bed was. She was plagued by dreams of icebergs, screaming and lifeboats. Finally, around five AM, she accepted that sleep had evaded her and went to the wash stand to clean up a bit.

She brought some fresh clothes, a soap cake and a pair of comfortable shoes to the communal third class bathtubs. As she washed and dressed, she felt loads better. She decided to braid her hair rather than put it in a bun. Braids are more useful. She tied it back and brought her book to the dining room to eat and read until the stewards served breakfast.

 ** _April 11, 1912_**

 ** _9:00 AM_**

Breakfast was ham and eggs, potatoes, milk and bread and tripe, which turned out to be some kind of fish. Sam didn't realize just how hungry she was until the steaming hot food was served. She and Helga sat together and got to know one another better, despite the language barrier and Helga's heavy accent. Helga and her family were headed to Minnesota to try and start a dairy farm.

Three hours later, as Titanic was docked in Queenstown, Ireland, Samantha met Jack and Fabrizio on the steerage deck, and the three friends crossed the full length of the ship over by the stern to the steerage deck. Sam was reading a copy of A Little Princess while quietly singing to herself, Jack was sketching a little girl being shown a view of the ocean by her father, and there was a kid and his brother playing with a small ball. Fabri struck up a conversation with the man sitting next to him, a curly haired man in a bowler hat and a brown coat.

"The ship is nice, huh?" he said. "Yeah, it's an Irish ship," Bowler Hat said. Fabrizio was confused. "Is English, no?" Bowler Hat scoffed. "No, it was built in Ireland! Fifteen thousand Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock. Big Irish hands," he said with pride toward his country.

He watched as an officer walked two dogs down the deck. Bowler Hat scoffed again. "Ah, now that's typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shite." "Lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things. Bowler Hat gave a sarcastic chuckle. "Like we could forget? I'm Tommy Ryan." "I'm Jack Dawson," Jack said, shaking the Irishman's hand. "Fabrizio," said the Italian. Tommy said hi to him too.

There was a silence, and Sam realized that Tommy was looking at her. "And who might you be, lass?" he asked quietly. Sam set aside her book and smirked. "I'm nobody. Who are you? Are you nobody too?"

Tommy let out a great barklike laugh. "Then there's a pair of us - don't tell! They'd banish - you know!"

"How dreary to be somebody!

How public like a frog

To tell one's name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!"

"Goddamn, you are something else," said Sam when they were done laughing. "Don't judge a book by its cover," he warned smilingly. "Come now, you must have a name."

"I'm Samantha Miller, but most folk call me Sam," she said. She set down her book and saw that Tommy was kind of cute with his babyish face and seafoam eyes. _And any guy that can quote Emily Dickinson from memory is okay by me!_

Tommy turned back to Jack. "Do you make any money with your drawings?" But the steerage artist wasn't paying attention. Jack was staring at a beautiful redhead on A deck, completely lovestruck. Fabrizio waved his hand, but it didn't work and he laughed. "Ah, forget it, boyo. You're as like have angels fly out of your arse as gettin' next to the likes of her!"

"Tommy's right, Jack, you've not got an chance in hell with her," Sam pointed out. Jack snapped out of it and grinned. "Hey, a guy can dream!" Jack and Fabrizio went down to the general room to kill some time before lunch, leaving Samantha and Tommy to their own devices. Sam decided to break the resulting awkward silence. "So Tommy, what's your story?"

"I'm from Belfast, but my mother and father moved us from there to Queenstown when I was sixteen. I'm 21 now. My father and I worked in a coal yard to pay for my ticket aboard the Titanic. Took damn near a year!" he said. "And what's yours?"

Sam had once read that to tell a convincing lie you had to stay as close to the truth as you possibly could. "I was born and raised in the heart of New York City. My parents died in a car crash along with my brother. I moved to Southampton when I was sixteen and I've lived there ever since until Jack, Fabrizio and I boarded. Jack and Fabrizio found me in a pub and won us our tickets in a poker game off some Swedish idiots who were drunk off their asses. Jack and I are going back home and Fabrizio is going to America for the first time," she explained.

She was surprised to remember that save for the part about living in Southampton for a long time, her family really perished in that car crash. Stick to the truth, indeed! Sam was starting to feel a bit bored and uncomfortable, so she politely excused herself and went back the general room.

Entertainment options for third class weren't as sparse as she had originally assumed. The general room had benches where one could sit and read, smoke, chat, play cards or play music on the plain but pretty Steinway piano in the corner. There were children running around and playing with dolls, spinning tops, and other toys. Young girls played hand clap games with their parents closely watching. Olaf Dahl, Helga's father, sat reading a Norwegian newspaper he had brought along for the trip. Helga was sitting next to him doing some needlepoint and her mother was sewing handkerchiefs. Jack was sitting at one of the tables sketching away.

Sam looked at the paper and was amazed. Jack was an extremely talented artist. He had drawn a man who sat a couple of benches over drinking some water. He had managed to capture nearly every detail, and she had to admire his work. "Hey, you're really good. How'd you learn to draw like that?" she asked.

"I don't really remember. I've been drawing since I was thirteen," he told her. "Jack is'a good artist!" Fabrizio said, clapping his American friend on the back. A little girl of about six or seven came running over. "Hi!" she said. "My name's Cora. I saw you sketching me and my daddy today."

"Hi there Cora!" said Jack. "These are my friends Fabrizio and Sam." Cora perched herself on the spot next to him. "Can I draw something?" Jack nodded. He tore a sheet out of his sketchbook and gave it to Cora. Samantha gave her one of the pencils she kept in her skirt pocket. The little girl set her gorgeous doll aside and began to scribble away happily.

Leaving the three of them to their own devices, Samantha went back to her cabin in search of a decent book. One of her suitcases was filled with them. There was Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, The Ambassadors by Henry James, Howards End by E. M. Forster, When a Man Marries by Mary Roberts Rinehart, The Net by Rex Beach, Pride and Prejudice, A Little Princess, Wuthering Heights, and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. She became lost in the worlds of the books and became completely oblivious to her surroundings for the next two hours.


	3. First Meeting

17 year old Rose DeWitt Bukater was screaming inside. She was going back to America, back to her ancestral home in Philadelphia. She should be happy to go back, but she was miserable. For financial reasons, her mother Ruth was making her marry Caledon Hockley.

She stepped inside her suite and set down her key. She stood in front of the mirror, struggling to get the dress undone. Unable to without the help of a maid, she screamed and pulled out her hairpins. She knocked over jewelry boxes and ripped off her necklace, not caring if it broke. She tried calling her maid Trudy's name several times but then she remembered she was in the fist class servants' dining room having dinner.

Rose took a deep breath. **_I know what I have to do. I have to die. It's the only way out._**

Jack lay on a bench at the stern of the ship smoking a cigarette and staring at the stars. His mind was on the pretty first class redhead. Sam and Tommy were wrong. Why shouldn't he have a chance with her?

He heard someone running and turned to watwatch. It was Red Hair. She was crying and clearly miserable. She approached the rail and stepped over, taking special care not to trip.

Jack approached her slowly. "Don't do it," he said. Rose turned to face him. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!" she warned. "Here, take my hand. I'll pull you back over!" he offered, slowly walking towards her. "No! Stay where you are! I mean it! I'll let go!" Rose threatened. Jack prepared himself for the verbal attack that was sure to come. "No you won't."

"What do you mean, no I won't? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do! You don't know me!" she snapped.

Jack shrugged and held up his arms defensively. "Well, you would have done it already," he argued.

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're distracting me. Go away!"

Jack shook his head. "I can't. I'm involved now. You jump, and I'm gonna have to jump in there after you," he explained. "Don't be absurd. You'd be killed!" she exclaimed.

Jack smirked at her. "I'm a good swimmer," he replied casually.

"The fall alone would kill you," Rose pointed out.

Jack thought for a second. "It would hurt, I'm not saying it wouldn't. But to tell you the truth I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold," he told her.

Rose looked down at the freezing bluish black water below her, now very scared. "How cold?" she asked suddenly.

Jack had already removed his vest and started untying his shoes. He thought for a second. "Freezing, maybe a couple degrees over," he replied. "You, uh, ever been to Wisconsin?" he asked, hoping to distract her.

Rose stared at him, confused. "What?"

Jack shifted on his feet. He smiled uneasily. "Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. I remember when I was a kid. Me and my father, we'd go ice fishing out on Lake Wissota. Ice fishing is you know where you-"

"I KNOW WHAT ICE FISHING IS!" Rose snapped.

Jack held up his hands defensively. "Sorry, you just seemed like, you know, more of an indoor girl... Anyways, I uh, I fell through some thin ice. And I'm telling you, water that cold, like right down there? It hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe. You can't think. At least it's not about anything but the pain," he said.

Rose took in his words, realizing she was really scared now.

Jack finished untying his shoes and took them off. "Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you. But like I said, I don't have a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail, and get me off the hook here," he continued.

Rose shook her head. "You're crazy!" she snapped, annoyed.

Jack chuckled as he stepped closer. "That's what everyone says, but with all due respect, miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here. Come on, come on. Give me your hand. You don't wanna do this," he coaxed gently. He held out his hand to her.

Rose took one last glance down at the freezing Northern Atlantic ocean below her, at perhaps her last chance to end her miserable existence.

Jack grinned. "Whew! I'm Jack Dawson."

Rose smiled shyly. "Rose DeWitt Bukater."

Jack laughed. "I'll have to get you to write that one down."

Jack started to help her over the rail, and Rose was glad that she'd made the right choice. However, she failed to notice that the hem of her dress was in the way. Just then, she slipped on it, and lunged downwards. She screamed.

Jack panicked and tightened his grip. Rose was screaming frantically for help, and Jack held her, but just barely. "Don't worry, I've got you, I won't let go!"

Some 25 feet above them, Quartermaster Rowe and some crewmen heard Rose's screams. They rushed down to the scene. Jack managed to pull Rose over the rail, and she landed on top of him in an awkward heap.

Quartermaster Rowe rushed over. "YOU STAND BACK, AND DON'T MOVE AN INCH!" he yelled. Jack stood up and put his hands in his pockets. Rowe turned to the crewmen. "Fetch the Master At Arms!" he ordered. The crewmen ran off and reappeared with Rose's fiance Cal and his servant Lovejoy.

By the time they got down there, Jack had already been handcuffed, and Rose was shaking on a bench.

Cal rushed over to Jack and pushed him backwards. "Completely unacceptable! What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancé?!" he raged. Jack said nothing. He couldn't do much being handcuffed anyways.

Rose was still shaking, so Colonel Gracie wrapped her in a blanket and offered her some brandy, which she politely refused.

"Look at me, you filth!" Cal barked.

"Cal!" Rose interjected. Cal ignored her.

"What do you think you were doing?!" he raged.

"Cal stop, it was an accident!" Rose yelled.

Cal spun around and let go of Jack. "An accident?!" he asked in utter disbelief.

Rose looked at Jack, and then back at Cal. "It was, stupid really...I was leaning over, and I slipped." Cal eyed her suspiciously. Rose swallowed nervously. "I-I was leaning far over to see the uh, the uh-"

"Propellers?" Cal guessed with an eye roll.

Rose nodded. "-propellers, and I slipped. I would have gone overboard, but Mr. Dawson here saved me, and almost went over himself!" she explained.

Cal scoffed. He looked at the Colonel in disbelief. "She wanted to see the propellers!" he mocked.

Colonel Gracie chuckled. "Like I said, ladies and machinery do not mix!" he agreed.

 ** _When? When did you say that?_**

Jack gave Rose a confused glance.

The Master-At-Arms looked at Jack. "Was that the way of it?" he asked.

Rose glanced at Jack, begging him with her eyes to go along with it. Jack nodded. "Yeah, yeah, that was pretty much it," he said. Rose looked at him, and he could see the gratitude and relief that shone in her eyes. He smiled at her.

Colonel Gracie grinned. "Well, the boy's a hero then! Good for you, son! Well done!" he congratulated Jack.

Cal turned to Rose, and rubbed her arms to warm her up. "You must be freezing! Let's get you inside." He put his arm around her, and began to lead her inside.

Colonel Gracie cleared his throat. "Perhaps a little something for the boy?" he suggested.

Cal turned to Lovejoy, not wanting to look ungrateful. "Ah yes, Mr. Lovejoy, I think a 20 should do it," he called over his shoulder.

Lovejoy nodded and pulled out Cal's wallet. Rose scoffed. "Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" she asked him. ...

Cal smirked. "Rose is displeased! What to do...? I know." He turned to Jack. "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening, to...regale our group with your, heroic tale," he suggested.

"Sure, count me in," he said, not really caring a whole hell of a lot.

Cal smirked again. "Good, it's settled then." He walked away with Rose. Lovejoy and the Colonel followed. "This should be interesting. "

Jack realized he was out of cigarettes, so he whistled at Lovejoy. Lovejoy turned. "Can I uh, bum a smoke?" Jack asked. Lovejoy held out the cigarette tin, and Jack took two. He lit one and put the other behind his ear for later.

Lovejoy looked down. "It's interesting. The young lady slipped so suddenly, and you still had time to remove your jacket, and your shoes," he pointed out. Jack looked down at his untied shoes, as Lovejoy walked away. Jack shook his head disbelievingly after everyone had left.

 ** _What a night_**

!


	4. Rose Seeks Jack

**_Later that day, around noon_**

Sam sat on a bench in the crowded general room and read. A few tables over, Fabrizio was trying to talk to the pretty blonde girl he'd been staring at the previous day.

"Italia, no? Little English?" He used hand gestures.

Helga smiled and shook her head. "Nei, Norsk...Norwegian only," she replied.

Fabrizio nodded. "Norwe-"

Helga's mother turned around, and tapped the bench. "Helga..." she warned in Norwegian.

Helga nodded. "Ja, Mamma."

Fabrizio chuckled. "Is a' your mama?" he asked her.

Helga nodded again. "Ja."

Fabrizio smiled at her. "I'm Fabrizio," he said.

Fabri-?" she tried.

Fabrizio grinned. "Tz-io," he finished for her.

Helga giggled. "Tzio."

Fabrizio couldn't help but let a wide smile spread across his face. "Si va bene! And, you?" he motioned towards her. "Oh, Helga," she replied. Meanwhile, Tommy was looking over some of Jack's drawings.

"They're very good. Very, very good!" he commented. Sam had to agree. She herself couldn't draw a straight line to save her life.

Just then, Cora's parents came back. "Cora, it's time to go now. Say goodbye to Uncle Jack!" Bert Cartmell said, taking Cora's hand.

Cora smiled. "Bye, Uncle Jack!"

Jack grinned. "Bye, Cora!"

Fabrizio turned to say something to Helga, but something had caught her eye. Fabrizio followed her gaze. Sam stared too. The whole room went silent as the pretty first class redhead that Jack had been staring at the day before descended the stairs.

Even Helga's parents turned to stare. As, Rose came down the stairs, almost everyone was staring at her. Ladies stared, and men tipped their hats.

Fabrizio tapped Jack on the shoulder, saying his name.

Jack immediately got up to greet Rose. "Hello Mr. Dawson," she said, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Hello again," Jack said nervously.

Rose shifted on her heels. "May I speak with you?" she asked him.

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"In private?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably. _I don't want these people staring at me any longer than is necessary._

Jack smiled politely. "Yes, of course, after you." Tommy laughed at them, and Jack slapped him playfully with his sketchpad as a result.

As the two of them went off, the piano started up again and the steerage folk resumed their conversations. Sam stared at the retreating back of the redhead.

"Damn. What do you think made Redhead come down here? And how the hell does she know Jack?" asked Sam.

Tommy shrugged. "Search me. The lad's obviously out to prove us wrong."

The Irishman then got a sassy look in his eyes. "Can you sing as well as you swear?"

The American burst out laughing. "In front of all these people? You're out of your goddamn mind!"

"Why not? You're scared?"

Sam stiffened and shook her head frantically. "No fucking way! I'm no singer, Tommy. Please don't make me do this."

"We're all bored off our arses here. Come on, Sammy girl, sing for us!"

Fabrizio and Helga nodded enthusiastically. "This room could'a use a little music. Per favore, La Bella Samantha!"

She saw the pleading looks on her friends' faces and couldn't ignore them. Soon the others in the room began to look at her like that too, as if they wanted to hear the American sing.

 _Oh, I am going to murder Tommy for this,_ she thought savagely as she made her way to the stage. She looked once more at all the expectant people.

 ** _"And who are you, the proud lord said,_**

 ** _that I must bow so low?_**

 ** _Only a cat of a different coat,_**

 ** _that's all the truth I know._**

 ** _In a coat of gold or a coat of red,_**

 ** _a lion still has claws,_**

 ** _And mine are long and sharp, my lord,_**

 ** _as long and sharp as yours._**

 ** _And so he spoke, and so he spoke,_**

 ** _that Lord of Castamere,_**

 ** _But now the rains weep o'er his hall,_**

 ** _with no one there to hear._**

 ** _Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,_**

 ** _and not a soul to_** **_hear."_**

Sam took a deep breath and stopped singing. The whole room clapped and she felt like she'd just got off a horse.

An Englishwoman, Yorkshire by her speech, whistled at her. "Another, please!"

What could Samantha do but indulge them? Most of these folk were poorer than dirt. What else did they have other than music?

 ** _"You think you own whatever land you land on,_**

 ** _The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim._**

 ** _But I know every rock and tree and creature_**

 ** _Has a life, has a spirit, has a name._**

 ** _You think the only people who are people_**

 ** _Are the people who look and think like you_**

 ** _But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger_**

 ** _You'll find things you never knew you never knew (you never knew)_**

 ** _Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon_**

 ** _Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?_**

 ** _Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains? (of the mountains)_**

 ** _Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?_**

 ** _Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?_**

 ** _Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest_**

 ** _Come taste the sun sweet berries of the Earth_**

 ** _Come roll in all the riches all around you (all around you)_**

 ** _And for once, never wonder what they're worth_**

 ** _The rainstorm and the river are my brothers (brothers)_**

 ** _The heron and the otter are my friend_**

 ** _And we are all connected to each other (to each other)_**

 ** _In a circle, in a hoop that never ends_**

 ** _Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon_**

 ** _Or let the eagle tell you where he's been?_**

 ** _Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?_**

 ** _Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?_**

 ** _Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?_**

 ** _How high does the sycamore grow?_**

 ** _If you cut it down, you'll never know_**

 ** _And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon_**

 ** _For whether we are white or copper skinned_**

 ** _We can to sing with all the voices of the mountains (of the mountains)_**

 ** _We can paint with all the color of the wind_**

 ** _You can own the Earth and still_**

 ** _All you'll own is Earth until_**

 ** _You can paint with all the colors of the wind (of the wind)!"_**


	5. Rose's Dreams

Rose looked at him. "So why did you leave in the first place?" she asked.

Jack smiled sadly. "Well I've been on my own since I was fifteen, since my folks passed away, and I had no brothers or sisters or close kin in that part of the country so I lit on out of there and haven't been back since. You can just call me a tumbleweed blowing in the wind," he explained, giving a slight laugh.

Rose nodded. Jack looked at her. "Well, Rose, we've walked about a mile around this boat deck and chewed over how great the weather's been and how I grew up, but I reckon that's not why you came to talk to me...is it?" he asked.

Rose shifted uncomfortably. "Mr. Dawson I-"

"Jack," Jack corrected her with a grin.

Rose nodded. "Jack, I wanted to thank you for what you did. Not just for, for pulling me back...but for your discretion."

Jack smiled at her. _She's talking about helping hide what she tried to do._ "You're welcome."

Rose stopped and turned to face him. "Look, I know what you must be thinking. Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?" she sighed, leaning against the side of the deck.

Jack hung onto one of the ropes and leaned back against the wall. He shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I was I was thinking was, what could have happened to this girl to make her think she had no way out?" he asked.

Rose sighed miserably. "Oh it was everything. It was my whole world, and all the people in it. And the inertia of my life...plunging ahead and me, powerless to stop it!" She showed him her engagement ring.

Jack noticed sparkly Rose's engagement ring. _That's a huge ass gem right here._ "God, look at that thing! You woulda gone straight to the bottom!" he said.

"Five hundred invitations have gone out All of Philadelphia society will be there, and all the while I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up!" She became exasperated.

Jack looked at her. "Do you love him?"

Rose was startled "Pardon me?"

Jack repeated his question. "Do you love him?"

Rose looked at him in shock. "Well, you're being very rude. You shouldn't be asking me this!"

Jack shrugged. "It's a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?"

Rose rubbed her forehead, clearly agitated. "This is NOT a suitable conversation!"

Jack smiled. "Why can't you just answer the question?" he asked curiously.

"This is absurd! You don't know me, and I don't know you, and we are not having this conversation at all! You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous, and I am leaving now! Jack, Mr. Dawson, it's been a pleasure I sought you out to thank you and now I have thanked you-" she said, shaking his hand repeatedly

Jack smirked. "And you've insulted me."

"Well, you deserved it!"

"Right."

"Right."

Jack smirked again. "I thought you were leaving."

Rose spun around to face him. "I am. You are so annoying!"

Rose walked away, but then stopped in her tracks. "Wait! I don't have to leave, this is my part of the ship, you leave!"

Jack grinned. "Whoa ho-ho! Well, well, well...now who's being rude?"

Rose snatched his sketchpad that he'd been carrying under his arm. "What is this stupid thing you're carrying around?" she demanded.

Jack just smiled as Rose flipped through his drawings.. "What, are you an artist or something? Well, these are rather good. They're very good, actually...Jack, this is exquisite work," she commented, looking at him.

Jack smiled at her. "Ah, they didn't think too much of 'em in Ol' Paree."

Rose looked at him. "Paris? You do get around for a por-well uh a person of limited means..." _Oh damn, I really need to watch what I say to people... I hope he isn't too insulted._

Jack laughed at her nervousness. "Go on, I'm a poor guy, you can say it," he said. He wasn't ashamed of his social status in the least, he took pride in himself and his place in society.

Rose blushed, and then looked back down at his sketches. "Well, well, well...and these were drawn from life?" she asked at all the nude girl pictures.

Jack nodded, smirking. "Well that's one of the good things about Paris, lots of girls willing to take their clothes off!"

Rose giggled and examined another drawing. "You like her, you've used her several times," she commented, referring to the nude girl in the picture.

Jack grinned and flipped to another drawing. It showed the girl in the picture's hands. "Well, she had beautiful hands, you see?" he asked, showing her the girl's soft hands.

Rose smirked. "I think you must have had a love affair with her," she teased.

Jack chuckled and shook his head. "No, no, no...just with her hands," he insisted. "She was a one legged prostitute, see?"

Rose looked closer. "Oh." She laughed awkwardly.

Jack smiled. "Ah, she had a good sense of humor though," he remembered. He flipped to another sketch. "Oh, and this lady. She used to sit at this bar every night, wearing every piece of jewelry she owned, just waiting for her long lost love. I called her Madame Bijoux. See her clothes are all moth eaten," he told her.

Rose admired the detail in the picture. "You have a gift Jack, you do, you see people," she said.

Jack looked her in the eye. "I see you."

Rose tilted her head curiously. "And?"

Jack gave a slight smile. "You wouldn't a jumped," he said. Rose looked at him in shock, and he smiled wider.

Jack looked at her. "I've never really cared for all that Dadaism and Cubism, it just had no heart to it," he admitted.

Rose shrugged. "I like some of it."

Jack looked at her. "Really?"

Rose smiled. "Yes."

Jack nodded. "Well, Paris for me was more about living on the streets, and trying to put it on the paper. You know what I mean?" he asked.

Rose sighed enviously. "You know, my dream has always been to just run away and become an artist! Living in a garret poor but free!"

Jack smirked. "You wouldn't last two days! There's no hot water and hardly ever any caviar!"

Rose turned to face him, suddenly angry. "I happen to hate caviar! And I hate people telling me what dreams I should and shouldn't have!" she snapped, her piercing emerald eyes flashed in fury.

Jack nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry, you're right."

Rose looked at him uneasily. "Well, alright."

She was exasperated. "Everyone wants me to be this delicate little flower, which I'm not! I'm sturdy. I'm strong as a horse! I'm here to do something, not just sit around and be decorative! You see these hands? They were made for work!" she snapped. Jack nodded.

Just then, a steward approached them. "Would you care for something, Miss? Some tea? Or some bullion?" he asked Rose.

"NO!" Rose snapped. The steward stepped back in shock, and Jack laughed. They kept walking, and Rose looked at Jack.

"There's something in me, Jack, like a dynamo. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist or a sculptor or I don't know, a dancer. Like Isadora Duncan, a wild pagan spirit! Or a moving picture actress!" she exclaimed, jumping into the shot of an oncoming videographer.

Rose was giggling as her picture was taken.

Jack grinned. "Well, I worked on a squid boat in Monterrey, then I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. I did portraits there for ten cents a piece," he explained as they gazed out at the sunset. It was a dark orangey-red color, with a bit of vibrant yellow mixed in as well. It was beautiful.

Rose smiled sadly. "Why can't I be like you, Jack? Just head out for the horizion whenever I feel like it?" She turned to face him and gave him a sly look. "Say we'll go there sometime, to that pier, even if we only ever just talk about it."

Jack grinned at her. "No, we'll do it! We'll drink cheap beer, ride on the rollercoaster till we throw up." Rose bust out laughing. Jack continued. "And we'll ride horses on the beach, right in the surf. Now you'll have to do it like a real cowboy...none of that side saddle stuff!" he teased.

Rose looked at him curiously. "You mean... one leg on each side? Can you show me?" she asked, her eyes lit up.

Jack flashed her a warm smile. "Sure, if you like." For the first time in her entire life, Rose felt almost free, respected, and cared about. She became overwhelmed with happiness and excitement.

"Teach me to ride like a man!" She said in a funny Southern accent.

Jack grinned. "And chew tobacco like a man!" he imitated her accent.

Rose giggled. "And...spit like a man!"

Jack laughed. "What, they didn't teach you that in finishing school?" he joked.

Rose shook her head. "NO!" she was giggling hysterically. Jack grinned.

"Come on I'll show ya," he offered.

At this, Rose became alarmed. She knew her mother would have a fit, not to mention, she thought the very idea of it was disgusting. "No Jack! No I couldn't possibly Jack..." but he was already pulling her back onto the covered bridge.

He dragged her up against the wall next to him. "Watch closely," he instructed. Rose shook her head and giggled.

He hacked up a wad of spit, and spit a large glob over the wall. "Oh that's disgusting!" Rose cringed.

Jack laughed at her reaction. "Alright your turn!" he told her.

Rose looked around to make sure no one was watching, and quickly spit over the wall. Jack shook his head. "That was pitiful!" he exclaimed, clearly not impressed.

He grinned at her. "You really got to hack it back, get some leverage to it." Rose looked at him. "Use your arms, arc your neck-" he spit again.

Rose watched this, and hacked up some spit of her own. "Now ya see the range on that thing?" Jack asked.

Rose nodded. "Mhmm."

Jack grinned. "Go!"

Jack nodded. "Really try to hack it up, you know get some body to it."

Rose tapped his shoulder, noticing her mother and a few other of the first class ladies approaching.

She turned around, as did Jack. Jack quickly swallowed his spit, but he still had a little drool on his chin. Molly Brown exchanged glances with Ruth and the Countess. Rose was startled. "Mother...may I introduce Jack Dawson." She gestured at Jack, who smiled politely.

Ruth was greatly displeased, but kept calm. "Charmed, I'm sure..."

Molly pointed to her chin. "Got a little-" she mouthed, and Jack quickly wiped off the spit.

Rose smiled nervously. "Yes, he saved me last night, and Cal invited him to join us for dinner," she explained. Molly and the Countess listened intently, but Ruth scowled.

Molly smiled warmly. "Well Jack, sounds like you're a good man to have around in a sticky spot." Just then, the dinner horns sounded, and she shook her head in annoyance.

She looked at the Countess. "Why do they always insist on announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?!" The Countess shrugged.

Rose giggled and turned to her mother. "Shall we go dress mother?" she suggested. Ruth merely nodded, and they began walking away. "See you at dinner Jack," Rose called over her shoulder. Jack smiled and waved after her.

The Countess walked off towards her own cabin, but Molly stayed behind. Jack was off in his own little world. "Son!" Molly tried to get his attention. Jack didn't respond. "SON!" She repeated, louder.

Jack was shaken out of his trance, and he looked down at her. "So uh, what are you plannin' to wear?" Molly asked. Jack shrugged and gestured at what he was wearing. Moll sighed. "I figured, come on."


	6. Storytelling and Steerage Parties

As Sam and Tommy sat in the general room with Cora again, the trio saw a man get out his uilleann pipes. "What d'you reckon is happenin'?" Tommy asked. She shrugged. "A party!" exclaimed little Cora excitedly. "It's to celebrate making a new life in America! Will you tell us a story, Aunt Sam?"

As before, the room went quiet. Emily, the other little girl Sam had befriended sat down at her feet. Her brother joined her, and soon a gaggle of children was sitting around her expectantly.

"Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last sort of folk you would expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they didn't hold with such nonsense," she narrated. She managed to get through to the part where Harry meets Ron on the Hogwarts Express before dinner was served.

Eugene Daly was listening to the American lass tell the story of Hogwarts. In turn, Sam listened to him and the rest of the steerage band warm up for the party later that night. She couldn't wait to dance the night away with her new friends.

Even though she was a chance she wouldn't survive the sinking of the Titanic, Sam had to at least try to get back to her New York City. But instead of dwelling on that, Sam focused on the fun she would have.

Meanwhile up among the first class swells, Molly had lent Jack a tuxedo she had bought for her son. "I was right!" she crowed. "You and my son are just about the same size."

"Pretty close," Jack agreed, straightening his bow tie. "You shine up like a new penny," said Molly. "Ha ha ha!"

Over on the Grand Staircase, Jack mentally prepared himself to enter the first class world. A steward held the door open for him. "Good evening, sir."

Jack kept his cool but was shocked. No one had ever called him sir in the whole of his life.

"Did you know that there are several thousand tons of Hockley steel in this very ship?" Cal said to Ruth. "Hmmm, which parts?" asked Ruth. "Only the right ones, of course," Cal bragged. "Then we'll know who to hold accountable if there's a problem," said Ruth smugly. "Where's my daughter?"

"Oh, she'll be along," said Cal dismissively. "And there is the Countess. Hello, dear!"

"Good evening, Cal," said the Countess of Rothes. "So good to see you," said Cal.

As Rose descended the stairs in a long black and red evening gown, she looked to Jack. Surreptitiously, he kissed her hand. "I saw that in a nickelodeon once and I always wanted to do it."

She took his outstretched arm and tapped Cal on the shoulder. "Darling, surely you remember Mr. Dawson?"

Cal looked at Jack in awe. "Dawson? Why that's amazing! You could almost pass for a gentleman."

"Almost," said Jack. "Extraordinary," said Cal again, taking Ruth's arm. As they all went into Cafe Parisien, Rose told Jack all about the people in first class. "There's the Countess of Rothes. And that's John Jacob Astor, the richest man on the ship. His little wife there Madeline is my age and in delicate condition. See how she's trying to hide it? Quite the scandal. And that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress Madame Aubert. Mrs Guggenheim is at home with the children of course, and over here we have Sir Cosmo and Lucille Lady Duff Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals."

"Congratulations Hockley, she's splendid," said Sir Duff Gordon. "Why, thank you," Cal bragged.

"Care to escort a lady to dinner?" asked Molly. "Certainly!" exclaimed Jack.

"Sweetpea, sweetpea?" Cal called to Rose over his shoulder, trying to make sure she was still there. Molly gave the two of them a look. "Ain't nothing to it, is there, Jack? Remember, they love money, so pretend like you own a gold mine and you're in the club. Hey, Astor!"

 _That's easy enough to remember,_ thought Jack.

"Well hello Molly," JJ greeted. "Nice to see you."

"JJ, Madeline, I'd like you to meet Jack Dawson," Rose introduced. "How do you do?" Madeline asked politely. "Pleasure," Jack replied, shaking her hand.

"Well, Jack, are you of the Boston Dawsons?" JJ asked curiously.

"No, the Chippewa Falls Dawsons actually."

He must have been nervous, but he never faltered. They assumed he was one of them. Heir to a railroad fortune, perhaps. New money obviously, but still a member of the club. Ruth of course could always be counted upon.

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Molly narrowed her eyes in anger.

Jack saw right through her snub and decided to have a little fun with it. "The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats."

At this, everyone laughed uncontrollably. "Mr Dawson is joining us from the third class," explained Cal. "He was of some assistance to my fiance last night."

"It turns out Mr Dawson is quite a fine artist," Rose commented. He was kind enough to show me some of his work today."

"Rose and I differ somewhat in our definition of fine art," said Cal drily. "Not to impugn your work, sir." Jack shrugged to show he didn't mind.

"She may be mine on paper, but in the eyes of G-d, she belongs to Thomas Andrews," Mr. Ismay was saying. "Are these all for me?" Jack asked in an undertone to Molly, gesturing to all the silverware. "Just start on the outside and work your way in," she muttered. "He knows every rivet in her, dont you, Thomas?" said Mr Ismay.

"Indeed."

Rose put her fork down. "Your ship is a wonder, Mr Andrews, truly." Andrews smiled. "Thank you, Rose."

"And how do you take your caviar, sir?" a waiter asked Jack. He shot Rose a secret glance. "No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much."

"And where exactly do you live, Mr Dawson?" asked Ruth.

"Well right now, my address is the RMS Titanic. After that I'm on G-d's good humor!" he told Ruth. "And how is it it you have means to travel?" asked Ruth.

"I work my way from place to place. You know, tramp steamers and such. But I won my ticket on Titanic here in a lucky hand at poker. A _very_ lucky hand," he said, nodding to Rose, who blushed.

"All life is a game of luck," Gracie commented. "A real man makes his own luck, Archie. Right Dawson?" said Cal.

"And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" said Ruth, her feathers ruffled. Molly Brown narrowed her eyes in anger.

"Well, yes, ma'am, I do... I mean, I got everything I need right here with me. I got the air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or, who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I'll take some more of that," he said to the waiter.

"I figure life's a gift, and I don't intend on wasting it. You never know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you. Oh, here you go Cal," Jack said, tossing Cal's lighter back to him. "To make each day count," he continued.

"Well said, Jack," Molly complimented. "Hear, hear!" Gracie echoed. "Rose held up her champagne glass. "To making it count."

Everyone clinked glasses. "To making it count!"

Meanwhile, back down in steerage, Sam sat with Tommy and Fabrizio reading Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. "I wonder what Jack is eating up in first class?"

Fabrizio was confused. "Jack is in'a first class?"

Sam set her book down. "Yeah! Remember that girl up on A deck we saw him staring at? Well apparently he stopped her from ending her own life. Jack said she was feeling so over whelmed that she wanted to end it all by jumping off the back of the ship."

"Blimey, who could possibly hate their life that much?" Tommy wondered. Sam gave him a sad look. "You'd be surprised, Tommy. There are some folk who feel like they have nothing even if they have everything."

"What makes you say that?" asked Tommy. "When I was four, my parents and my brother died in a car crash. I felt like it was my fault because I distracted my dad while he was driving and that's what caused the truck to swerve into our lane. But it wasn't true. The guy was drunk and ran a red light. Still, there were times when I wanted to die too. The guilt was eating me alive and I wanted to end it just like Rose did," she explained.

"I am'a sorry, signorina," said Fabri sincerely. "Don't be. At least I've gone from hating myself to hating the driver of the truck," said Sam. "Hey now, none of that. The purpose of sailing on Titanic is to make a new start," said Tommy.

The steerage band had started to play. "All right lads, grab your girls, Humors of Glendart. One, two three go!" Eugene Daly called out. A fast and fun song began to play. Sam drained her beer glass in a single gulp and smiled. _Where has this been all my life?_

She got up and held a hand out to Tommy. "Dance with me!"

The Irishman stared at her. "You're mad, lass!"

"Maybe, but I'll tell you a secret: All the best people are. Now shut up and dance with me, you stupid mundane!" she said. A grin slowly spread on his face.

Up in first class, Molly was telling a story about the time she had accidentally cooked two hundred dollars. "And Mr. Brown had no idea I'd hidden the money in the stove! So he comes home drunk as a pig, celebrating, and he lights the fire!" Everyone burst out into peals of laughter.

"Next it'll be cigars and brandies in the smoking room," Rose muttered to Jack. "Well, join me in a brandy, gentlemen?" said Gracie. Rose shot Jack an I told you so look.

"Now they're going to retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe," said Rose. "Ladies, thank you for the pleasure of your company," said Ismay.

"Would you like me to escort you back to the cabin?" asked Cal. "No, I'll stay here," replied Rose. "Here ya go Molly," said Jack, handing her the pen and pad of paper he had borrowed.

"Joining us, Dawson? Why, you don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?" Gracie joked. Jack grinned. "No thanks, I've gotta be heading back."

"Probably best. Be all business and politics, that sort of thing. Wouldn't interest you," said Cal. "Oh, but Dawson? Good of you to come."

"Jack, must you go?" asked Rose sadly. "Time for me to go row with the other slaves," he joked, kissing her hand and surreptitiously handing her a note in the process. "Goodnight, Rose."

Once Jack and the other men were out of earshot, Rose opened his note.

 ** _Make it count. Meet me at the clock._**

Rose went up the stairs and took a deep breath. Jack turned. "So you wanna go to a real party?"

That night, all of steerage was in attendance at the party. A man was playing some kind of bagpipe, a second man had clappers, a third was banging away on what looked like an Irish war drum and there was a female fiddler.

In came Jack and Rose, who was wearing a red and black evening dress.

"Whoa, Jack, I'm impressed! You look like a million bucks!" said Sam in awe. She noticed Rose and introduced herself. "This is Fabrizio, Helga, Tommy, and me, Samantha."

"Guys, this is Rose, the girl I told you about," said Jack. Cora scampered over. "Uncle Jack! Dance with me!"

He looked at Rose, who nodded. "Go Jack, go. I'll be fine here."

Tommy grinned. "Pleased to meet ya, lass!"

Rose looked uncomfortable, so Samantha offered her a beer. "Not used to us yet, are ya?" Rose shook her head. "As long as no one stares at me again, I'm happy." Sam grimaced. "Sorry about that, by the way. Most of the people here have never been further than a day's walk from the place where they were born before boarding this ship. None of us are really used to swells wanting anything to do with us."

"So who are you traveling with?" asked Rose. "Jack and Fabri found me in a pub in Southampton and we played poker against some drunk Swedes. Jack has a damn good poker face. He was the one who won us our tickets," said Sam. "And you? What's your story?"

"My mother and I are going back to America with my fiance and his valet and our maid. But I'd rather be an artist," said Rose. "Your dress is really beautiful, by the way. Did you make it yourself?" asked Sam.

"Oh, heavens, no! It was made in Paris," said Rose.

The Swedish Gunderson brothers Olause and Bjorn were dancing up on the podium in a circle with hands clasped together.

A few feet over, Fabrizio was trying to dance with Helga. "Is okay I put my hand here?" he asked, pointing to her waist. She nodded. "Okay!"

Bjorn came over to their table, apparently drunk as Rose and Sam were clapping along to the beat of the music. "Talar froken Svenska?" he slurred.

"What?"

He repeated himself. "I can't understand you!" said Rose. "Yeah, go away, Bjorn!" said Sam. Tommy set down three beers and Sam took a sip. It was bitter, but just the kind of buzz she needed.

Jack twirled Cora around one last time. "I'm gonna dance with her now, all right?" said the artist, who had been dancing with little Cora. He pointed to Rose.

"What?" she asked. "Come on, come with me," said Jack. "What? Jack, Jack, wait! I cant do this," said Rose fearfully. Jack ignored her. "We're gonna have to get a little bit closer, like this," he instructed, putting a hand on her waist and pulled her in.n Rose gasped.

Cora gave Rose a dirty look. "You're still my best girl, Cora," said Jack. She grinned and scampered off. "I don't know the steps!" said Rose. "Neither do I, just go with it. Don't think!" Jack said over the din.

Sam watched as Fabrizio danced with Helga on the podium. _Those two are so cute._

"Wait, Jack, Jack, wait! Stop, Jack, wait!" cried Rose, afraid of going so fast. "Wait!"

Jack pulled Rose onto the podium, where he showed off by doing a little tap dance. Rose retaliated by imitating him and soon it was an all out dance battle, which Rose won. They started to do a kind of maypole dance. "Jack, no!"

As the band switched from John Ryan's Polka to The Kesh Jig, Jack grabbed beers for himself and Rose. Tommy and Bjorn were arm wrestling. Bjorn promptly slaughtered him. Bjorn and his Swedish buddies cheered drunkenly. "Two outta three! Two outta three!" Tommy insisted. "Tommy's right, Bjorn, you're a bigger cheater than Jack!" said Sam.

"So!" said Rose, taking Tommy's cigarette right out of Tommy's mouth and putting it in hers. "You think you're big, tough men? Let's see you do THIS!" She gave Jack the sliptrain of her gorgeous dress. "Hold this for me, Jack. Hold it up!" she instructed. Slowly she rose on her toes in a would be ballet move. Sam, Tommy and Bjorn looked on, impressed. Rose managed to stay like that foir all of two seconds before collapsing. "OW!"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," said one Irish lady in wonder. "Goddamn, you are something else," said Sam. It was true; she'd never seen anything quite like it. "Are you all right?" Jack asked. Rose giggled. "I haven't done that in years!"

"Drowsy Maggie, lads, give it a hurry!" called Eugene Daly. The band struck up a tune, and Helga, who had been talking to a friend, pulled Fabrizio into a sort of conga line. Fabri took Rose's hand, bringing her into it too. "Yay! We dance! Andiamo, andiamo!" Sam slipped Tommy's hand into hers and danced the night away.

"All right, lads, Cullybacky Hop! Let's go!" called Eugene. Sam went over to Bjorn. "Bjorn. Hey, Bjorn! Ya beat Tommy, but can ya beat me?" The Swede grinned. "Vi see!"

It took a couple of tries, but she did beat him. She beamed at Tommy. "How's that for your two outta three, eh?" she gloated. "Ah, you're just showin' off now!" said the Irishman. _This girl is absolutely perfect._ She stuck her tongue out at him

"Can I talk to ya outside?" he asked hopefully. Sam thought it over. "All right!"

"So what was it you were wantin' to say?" she asked as they walked down the steerage corridors. Tommy sighed. "I was hopin' to ask you some advice."

"Fire away."

"Well there's this lass," he began. Sam laughed. "Isn't there always a girl?"

"Don't tease!" said a rather embarrassed Tommy. This was not going as planned.

Sam stopped laughing. "I'm sorry. Go on. What's she like?"

"She's...one in a million. She's kind, and beautiful and funny, and sometimes a little odd," said Tommy.

"So what's the problem?"

"She's you," he said simply. "Look, Sammy, I'm not one for mincin' words, so I'm just gonna come out with it. You're the most amazing girl I've ever met. Like I said, you're sweet, you're funny, and what it is that I'm trying to say is that...I love you."

 _Crap crap crap!_

"Let's think about this logically Tommy. I'm flattered, I really am, but no one can fall so hard so fast," said Sam.

As Tommy gazed at her expectantly, she felt herself go weak at the knees. Tommy's name had seemed familiar and now she knew why: As she'd worked on her project and perused the third class passenger list, she had come across a Thomas Ryan from Belfast. He had been shot on site by Will Murdoch and had been dead before he hit the floor. She wasn't sure if Thomas Ryan and her Tommy were the same person, but she wasn't going to take any chances by falling in love with him.

"You don't want to fall in love with me, Tommy. I have secrets like no other woman's. Stick with someone safe and harmeless," she advised him.

"But it's you I want, Sammy girl."

She pulled away from him. "I can't do this! I've known you all of two days! I'm not just going to throw logic out the window. I'm not like Jack or Fabrizio. I'm not high on life. And you shouldn't be either! Even if we were to date aboard this ship, what would happen once we dock in New York? We'd part ways and never see one another again! I'm so sorry, Tommy. I really am. But we have to think rationally here!"

"Why are you so afraid of living a bit? Why can't we just live in the moment? Why do I scare you?" Tommy demanded angrily.

"Because to have That Dark Day repeat itself would not only kill me. It would destroy me!" she said, frustrated. "Everyone I've ever loved is dead because of me. I don't want any more blood on my hands."

She scrambled to get up from the bench, taking one last sad look at the heartbroken Irishman. "I'm so sorry. I know I've hurt you."

Meanwhile, up on deck, Jack and Rose were trying to sing an old song.

"Come Josephine in my flying machine!"

"And its up she goes! Up she goes!"

"Something about a bird on a beam!"

"In the air she goes! There she goes!"

"Up, up, a little bit higher!"

"Oh! My! The moon is on fire!"

Rose was the first to see the first class entrance sign. "Here we are."

"Alright," said Jack.

"I don't want to go back. Look, it's beautiful!" said Rose, referring to the star clogged night sky. "Yeah," Jack agreed. "So vast and endless, but they're so small! My crowd. They think they're giants, but there not even dust in G-d's eye," she mused.

Jack grinned. "You know, there's been a mistake. You're not one of them. You got mailed to the wrong address!" he teased. Rose laughed in agreement. "I did, didn't I? Look, a shooting star!"

"It's a long one. You know, my pops used to tell me that every time you saw one it was a soul going to heaven.

"I like that. Aren't we supposed to wish on it?"

"Why, what would you wish for?"

Rose smiled sadly. "Something I can't have.

 _You, Jack. I want you._


	7. The Insanity of Jack Dawson

**_A/N: Sorry for that last cliffhanger. Don't murder me:)_**

 ** _April 14, 1912_**

 ** _12:00 noon_**

The next day, Sam and Helga woke up feeling about as lively and chipper as the fifth circle of hell. "Fuck, I've got a hangover!" said Sam. "Ja, vondt hodet mitt ogsa," agreed Helga. (Yes, my head hurts too.) "Ah, well. C'mon, let's get dressed," said Sam. She still felt awful about her fight with Tommy, and the way she had hurt him.

Some one knocked at the door. Sam opened it and was met by Tommy. "How did you find me?" she asked, guarded. "Jack told me where to find you," said Tommy.

"About last night-"

"Stop. That's not why I came. You and Helga missed breakfast, so I managed to swipe some bread for you," he explained. Hesitantly, Sam took it and passed a roll to her friend. "Just so's you know, bringing me bread isn't going to change my mind. I'm sorry I hurt you, but like I said, we have to think about this from a logical standpoint. No one can just fall in love in two days."

"I don't give a damn about logic! Logic doesn't explain why I'm still by your side, despite how stubborn and infuriating you are!" he argued. "I'm stubborn? I'm stubborn?! Oh, that's rich, coming from you. I have asked you twice now to leave me the hell alone and you're still chasing after me like a love slave!" she retorted.

"I'm trying to tell you I'm in love with you and you can't even let me do that much! What the hell are ya tryin' to prove?" Tommy barked and kissed her roughly. Sam was shocked. She backhanded him clear across the face. "Come near me again and I swear to G-d I'll jinx you. I know some good ones now," she said in a scary calm voice.

"Fine," said Tommy, hurt. "But don't expect to see me again." He spun on his heel and stalked off.

"Dammit," Sam swore and sat on her bed. She needed to think and vent, and she knew the perfect place. She went into the general room and sat down at the piano bench, losing herself in the music.

Jack went in search of Rose, and got as far as the second class promenade deck before the stewards there. He knew he was falling in love with Rose, and he would never make it into first class without some help.

So he went down to steerage and saw Tommy in the dining saloon. "Hey, Jack! What's doin'?" the Irishman greeted, trying to mask his own sadness from his friends. "I need your help. Have you seen Fabrizio and Sam?"

"Why, what's the problem?" asked Tommy. "I'll explain later," said Jack. "Right now let's go find the others."

So Tommy and Jack split up to go find their friends. Tommy was glad of the opportunity. He needed to apologize to Sam.

He found her at the piano, playing a haunting tune with a sense of urgency. She had a steely determined look in her eyes, and she was angry, her jaw clenched.

"Sammy," he said. Sam nearly jumped a mile out of her skin. "Jesus H fuck, Tommy, you scared the shit out of me!" she yelped.

"Look, I'm sorry. Jack says he needs you and Fabrizio. Won't say why, though," said Tommy.

Sam gave it a moment's thought. "Fine. But I'm doing this for Jack. G-d knows he's been a better friend than you have of late," she said coldly.

 _Damn, that was below the belt. She's really pissed off still._

* * *

"So let me get this straight. You're gonna try to sneak into first class to see this girl who's like to shatter your heart, who's worth more than the whole steerage class altogether?" Sam asked Jack.

"This isn't just some crush, Sam! I'm in love with her!"

"After what, three days? Two? You're out of your goddamn mind!" she said, throwing her hands up, frustrated.

Jack gave his friends a pleading look. "Will you guys seriously just help me?" he asked.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Fine." They followed him up to the gate. "She's a goddess among mortal men, there's no denying, but she's in another world, Jacky! She's closing the door! Just forget her!" Tommy argued as they walked through the gate. "Just forget her!"

"He's right, Jack. Like I said that first day, you don't have a chance in hell," said Sam.

Jack ignored them and sprinted over to the wall separating the swells from the steerage rats. He was going to have them give him a boost over the rail.

Tommy looked at Fabrizio. "He's not being logical, I tell ya!"

"Illogical? He's out of his goddamn mind!" Sam said again.

"Amore is not'a logical," said Fabri patiently. He was right. Tommy looked at Sam expectantly. "You're the logical one. You talk some sense into this...this madman!"

Sam felt three sets of eyes staring at her and flushed. She hated being under pressure.

"I think Jack should follow his heart," she blurted out, surprising herself as well as the other two. "G-d knows I could learn a thing or two from him."

An officer noticed the three of them in first class. "Hey you three, get back where you belong!"

Fabri put his hands up defensively. "We go, we go!"

"You've changed your tune," said Tommy coldly as they made their way down to steerage. Sam sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, Tommy, about everything. I was cruel to you. I never should have said any of that. I was out of line, way out of line," she apologized. "Can you forgive me?"

His expression softened to one of love.

"Actually it's me what should be sayin' sorry. I was an idiot. I never should have pressured you. I do love you but if you aren't ready for me, I won't push this," said Tommy.

"But that's the thing, Tommy, I do want this. I just didn't think you would want a girl like me, a secretive girl who has demons," replied Sam.

"That's ridiculous! Every woman has secrets," he protested. Hesitantly, he slipped his hand into hers and sat down at a table in the general room. "Can I kiss you?" asked Samantha. "Really kiss you, I mean?"

Tommy gently caressed her loose black waves. His expression softened to one of love, and the duo had their first perfect kiss, and it was like fire was singing through their souls.


	8. The First Secret

**_A/N: This chapter will be all Sam/Tommy and a little Fabrizio/Helga but no Jack/Rose. I think in the orginal canon story, that pairing really blocked out any other potential ones to the point where they're only seen in deleted scenes. I don't like when a story does that, so I'm adding in my own little fluff scenes too._** Sorry for that last cliffhanger. Don't murder me:)

"Can I ask you something?" asked Tommy as they sat companionably together at a table in the general room. Sam swigged her beer and set it down. "Yeah, sure. Shoot."

"Why did you open up to me? I could tell you liked Jack and Fabri fine, but you opened up to me, not either of them. Why?"

"You really want to know the truth?"

Tommy nodded.

"You called me Sammy. No one has called me that since That Dark Day." It was a simple explanation , yet it was the only one she had. And it was truth.

"That's all it took to gain your trust? To call you Sammy?" asked Tommy. "It wasn't just that. You unlocked a piece of my past I locked away deep in my soul. Apparently, you had the combination of that safe," said Sam.

Tommy whistled. "I had no idea I fell in love with Emily Dickinson."

"I always found her poetry kind of depressing. 'I'm nobody. Who are you? Are you nobody too?' How is that not dreary sounding?"

"Poetry isn't my favorite thing to read," Tommy admitted. "I like novels, but I left all my books back in Ireland."

"I have books in my cabin. We can read to one another if you like," she suggested. "I'd rather walk with you," he said shyly.

"What's wrong?" Tommy asked as he and Sam walked the entire length of the steerage deck hand in hand.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said. "You can talk to me," he coaxed.

Sam scoffed. "You couldn't handle the truth."

"Try me!"

Sam took a deep breath. "Fine," she said. She pointed a cautioning finger to him. "But don't have me chucked in the madhouse when you find out!"

Tommy squared his shoulders. "Quit stallin' and tell me. How bloody bad can it be?"

"Fine, you asked for it. My name is Samantha Herzog Miller. I'm 22, and I was born on January 19, 1994. I'm an orphan with no siblings, no thanks to that drunk truck driver I told you about. I don't know how it happened and I don't know why, but I seem to have fallen through time. I'm not a liar and I'm not mad. You can believe me or not believe me. That's your choice. But know this: This ship will sink. It's going to hit an iceberg and sink. Tonight. There are 2200 souls on board and not even half will make it out alive," she blurted out in one breath.

Tommy just sat there. "Please say something, anything!" Sam begged. "I believe you," he said simply. "I don't understand it. But you don't strike me as a liar or a madwoman. Besides, I've had a bad feeling about this ship since I boarded. What time will Titanic hit the iceberg?"

"Eleven o'clock. What time is it now?"

Tommy pulled out his pocket watch. "It's half past three."

"Good, we have time. We have to warn as many of steerage as we can. Last time no third class made it," Sam pointed out.

"What happened to them?" asked Tommy.

"Some froze, some drowned. Most were immigrants what didn't speak the Common Tongue. They didn't know where to go, poor devils," she said sadly. "But we have a chance to change that."

Outwardly, Samantha was composed and calm. Inwardly, she was scared shitless. _How the hell am I gonna pull this off ? As far as the officers and the swells are concerned, we're little more than dirt to them!_

"There's something else, Tommy," she commented. "Before the timejump, I was doing research on Titanic and I looked on the steerage casualties list, and I saw your name. Thomas Ryan, third class, from Belfast. Shot and killed by Will Murdoch. He was dead before he hit the ground."

"That's why you were so afraid to lose me. Ya knew my fate," he mused in wonder. "If there's one thing I'm good at, love, it's surviving."

"Seriously? How the hell can you be flirting with me when we both know the ship is going to sink?" she said.

"Yeah, you're right. But what can we do about it?" asked Tommy. "Just trust me, love," she said. She grabbed Tommy's hand and the duo raced to the first class pool, where they stole some clothes from the locker rooms so the first class stewards wouldn't know they were steerage.

"I feel like a complete dumbass in this monkey suit," she muttered under her breath darkly. They found Captain Smith up on the promenade deck.

"Captain Smith! Captain Smith!" said Sam. "Yes?' asked the aging sea captain. "You received ice warnings a few hours ago, right?" she asked in desperation. "Yes, why?" Captain Smith asked, confused. "You have to take those warnings seriously. Load the lifeboats right now! We may still have time!" Sam ordered.

"What's all this madness?" Smith asked. "Sir, it's not madness. My girlfriend is right. I know ya most likely don't believe me, but it's true. No ship is unsinkable," Tommy said. "Nonsense. This ship is unsinkable!" the captain flared. "Now get out!"

"IF YOU GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THIS SHIP OR ITS PASSENGERS, YOU'LL BLOODY DO AS I SAY!" Sam yelled, frustrated. "I'm sorry, miss. But I can't," said the captain. "Dammit!" Sam said as they left. "What do we do now?" Tommy asked. "We have to warn as many of the third class as we can. Last time, almost no third class made it. They all froze or drowned, or simply didn't understand English and didn't know where to go," said Sam. "C'mon, we've no time to lose!"

She and Tommy raced down to third class. "You take this hallway, I'll take the next one. Meet me at the corner!" she said. "Wait!" Tommy called. He gave her a short but passionate kiss. "I love you. Be safe," he said. "Got it!" she said. She started rapping on doors. "Get your life belts on! Lifebelts on now!" she said. "Come on!"

She and Tommy managed to herd all the third class into the halls. "Vad är det som händer?" Bjorn asked. "Bjorn! BJORN!" Sam yelled. "Vad is it, Sam?" he asked, annoyed looking. _He's still pissed off at me for beating him at that arm wrestle at the party._ "Bjorn, I need you to translate for all the Swedes, Finns, and Norwegians who don't understand English. Tell them the ship is sinking and that we don't have much time! Hurry!" she said.

Bjorn nodded. "Fartyget sjunker! Vi måste alla få ut av här!" he yelled. "Attention all English speaking third class! The ship is sinking! We've gotta get out of here now!" Sam yelled to the frightened passengers. She repeated herself in Italian, Spanish, French, Mandarin, and Arabic. _The more folk what can understand me, the more people we'll save._

"What do you mean? You're having us all on!" yelled an Englishman in pajamas. But then, an eerie scraping noise shook the whole hallway! "Shit!" she yelped. The Englishman looked at her with cold fear in his eyes. "Now do you believe me? That was an iceberg!" Sam yelled. "Let's go!"


	9. Escape

"Where are we going?" asked Tommy. Sam was tense and fearful. "I'm trying to get us the fuck out of here. Goddamn it!" she said furiously as she banged her knee on something.

But Tommy wasn't one for waiting. He went up the stairs to the gate with Samantha following close behind and shook the bars of the wrought-iron gate. "You can't keep us locked in here like animals, the ship's bloody sinking!"

"Unlock the gate, you son of bitch or we're all going to die down here!" Sam shouted, giving the gate a shake herself. Her eyes were flashing dangerously, and if looks could kill, that steward would have been a grease spot. He glanced at the steward next to him. "Unlock the gates."

"Bring forward the women!" a steward called. As they unlocked the gates to let women and girls pass, a panic broke out. Everybody started yelling and pushing at the bars.

A steward used what looked like a police club to keep the male passengers from going past them, and Sam accidentally got hit. A stinging pain bloomed where the steward had hit her, and blood gushed down. "Sam!" yelped Tommy, alarmed. He helped her up, gently touching the cut. She recoiled in pain. "Fuck! Fuckity ow!"

"Women only! No men! No men! Get back!" yelled the terrified steward, brandishing a tiny pistol. Sam laughed. _That thing won't do jack shit to protect you from the rioters, buddy boy._ "Lock the gates!"

But the crewmen were scared now. They had let the situation get out of hand, and now they had a damn mob riot on their hands.

"For God's sake, man, there are women and children down here! Let us up, so we can have a chance!" Tommy screamed desperately, shaking the bars again.

 _It's just like my nightmare,_ Sam thought. _Only it's actually happening._ Then she saw Jack, Rose, and Helga a few feet over.

Tommy gave the steward a death glare and he and Sam pushed their way back through the crowd, going down the stairs and rejoining Jack, Rose and Fabrizio.

"Jack!" said Helga fearfully. "Helga! Hey! Where's Fabrizio?" Jack asked, full of anxiety for his friend. Helga pointed.

"Jack!" he yelled. "Sam! Tommy!" said Jack. Can we get out?"

"It's hopeless that way!" said Tommy, gesturing. "Well, whatever we do, we've gotta do it fast. Whoa, Sam, what happened to your forehead?" asked Jack.

"The fucking steward hit her. She'll be fine, though," said Tommy.

"Jack!" said Fabrizio, pushing his way through the crowd and embracing the American man.

"Fabrizio!" crowed Jack. "The boats are all gone!" said the Italian boy, terrified. "This whole place is flooding. We've got to get put of here!" said Jack, getting more and more anxious. "There is niente this way!" said Fabrizio.

"Let's go this way, all right?" Jack instructed. "No, Jack! Aspett, aspett!" said Fabrizio. Sam's eyes widened. He was going to try to get Helga and her family to go to the boats! _He'll never convince Olaf, not with that language barrier!_ "Everyone, you come with me! The boats, they going!" he tried to tell them. "We go, Far?" Helga pleaded. Olaf Dahl shook his head. "Nei."

Fabri tried again. "Come, in the boat! In the boat, capito!" "Come on!" Jack urged, trying to help out his friend/ adopted brother. Fabrizio took Helga's hands in his. "Helga, per favore, you come with me now. I am lucky, is my destiny to go to America. Please!" he begged.

"Far!" Helga tried again, but her father still refused. He didn't want his only daughter to off to who knew where with a boy she'd just met.

Fabrizio kissed her passionately. "Come!" he urged again. "Fabrizio, I kan ikke ga," she told him sadly. Sam broke free of Tommy's grip. "What are you doing? You're never going to be able to convince them to go to the boats!"

"I have to try!" she snarled. "Helga, the ship is sinking. We have to leave, now. Do it for Fabrizio! He'll fall to fucking pieces without you!" Olaf shook his head firmly. "Nei!"

Sam cracked like glass in a fireplace and slapped Olaf, hard, leaving a large red mark. "Dammit, you stupid motherfucking asshole, can't you see that I'm trying to save your lives here?"

The others all stared in admiration, especially Tommy.

"Don't you dare tell me what to to! I know what's best for my family!" Olaf raged in Norwegian. "Hey, you no yell at her, you crazy bastardo!" yelled Fabrizio.

He started jabbering away in rapid-fire angry Italian, only some of which Sam could understand, and those bits colorfully described Olaf's posterior end. Olaf responded with a tirade of angry Norse cusswords concerning Fabrizio's mother.

Helga's eyes darted down and back up again. She still didn't understand, and the two men she loved most yelling their heads off wasn't helping. She put her hands over her ears. "Fuck fuck fuck my life. Oh, this is absolutely pointless!" Sam snapped. "Bjorn! We need your help!" She remembered him telling her he was able to speak Norwegian.

"I need you tell them the ship is sinking. Tell them the ship is sinking and that we don't have much time! Tell them I'm trying to find a way out of here. Hurry!"

Bjorn repeated her words in the Dahls' native language. Once they realized what was happening, Olaf followed Sam out of the steerage hallway and they all got the hell out of Dodge.

"Grazie, signorina. You save my Helga's life!" said a thankful Fabrizio. Sam smiled. "How did you do that?" asked Tommy. Sam looked at him. "Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind. No one," she said in a deadly voice.

Tommy could only look on in awe. This woman was perfect. No wonder he had fallen in love with her. She was fierce, gorgeous, and like a warrior, aggressively loyal to those she cared about. And she could swear with the best of them too.

 _Never fuck with me when I've dug my heels in!_


	10. Gunshot

"Sam, there's a boat! You, Helga and Mrs. Dahl can get on together!" Tommy said. "No! I can't get on unless I know for sure you and Fabri'll be okay!" Sam protested. "Get on the bloody boat!" he said. "Signorina, you must. This'a may be your last possibilità to get of'a the ship!" Fabrizio coaxed. "Fabrizio, I nei ga without du," said a scared Helga.

"You get on'a da boat with Sam and your mama, sweet Helga. Tommy, your pappa and I will get on the first one that lets men on, si?" he said. Helga nodded. "Jeg elsker deg," she said, kissing him. "See? Even Fabri knows you've got to get on. Go with Helga and her ma," said Tommy. Sam shook her head furiously. "No! I'm not going without you! Goddamn it, I can't turn away without knowing you'll be all right!"

Tommy caressed her hair. "I know. But whatever my fate is, love, you're like to share it with me if you stay," he pointed out gently. Sam realized that as unfair as it was, he was right. She kissed him fiercely and said a la OUAT, "I will find you, Tommy Ryan, my love. I will always find you."

Tommy smiled and kissed her forehead. "I don't doubt it, lass. Now go!"

She gave him and Fabrizio a last fleeting glance. He stared back sadly, the SOS rockets making his eyes light up. "We'll meet again after this shitstorm," she whispered.

"Mamma, vi kommer to båt nå," Helga said. Mrs. Dahl gave her husband a last fleeting glance. "Tommy, I love you," Sam said to him. He kissed her forehead.

"I love you too." She gave Fabrizio a hug. "Fabri, you've been like a brother to me. The three of you need to stick together. Whatever you do, don't get separated, and stay safe, all of you. As for Helga and Mrs. Dahl, I'l keep them safe," she said. "Promise me!" "I'a promise, signorina," said Fabri. She nodded. "G-d be with you all!" Sam, Helga, and Mrs Dahl got on the boat. "Lower away!" said the attending officer.

Helga started to cry. Sam wrapped her blanket around the both of them. She held the poor terrified girl close. "Fabri and your dad'll be okay, Helga. I promise. They'll be fine, as will we," she said. They watched Tommy and Fabri looking sadly down at them flares going off behind them, and Sam's eyes clouded over too. "Helga, vil din far bli bra , så vil din Fabrizio," said Mrs Dahl to her daughter. (You will be all right, and so will Fabrizio.)

"Listen to me, all of you! This isn't a completely hopeless situation. Don't ask me how, but I knew the ship would hit the iceberg. My boyfriend and I were able to warn most of the third class, so that many more of our loved ones will get off the ship!" Sam called. "So it was you what raised the alarm!" said one woman.

"Yes, Tommy and I were able to warn you, thank G-d," Sam said.

Meanwhile, back on the ship, Tommy, Fabrizio, and Mr. Dahl wated to get on a boat. But the officer wouldn't let them get on. "Will ya give us a chance to live, ya limey bastard!?" Tommy screamed.

"I'll shoot any man who tries to get past me, get BACK!" Murdoch cried. "Bastard!" Tommy yelled again. "We had a deal, damn you!" said a haughty-looking first class man. Murdoch threw a huge wad of cash into the man's face.

"Your money can't save you any more than it can save me!" he told the man. "Get back!" One man suddenly tried to escape. Murdoch shot at the man, who fell down dead. In the panic, Tommy was accidentally pushed forward. Murdoch shot the gun, but hit Tommy's lifebelt.

"Bastardo!" yelled Fabrizio, thinking Murdoch had killed him, and Mr. Dahl, thinking the same, started cussing Murdoch out in Norwegian. "Du jævla drittsekk! Du drittsekk, du drepte ham!" he shouted angrily. (You fucking asshole! You fucking asshole, you killed him!) Tommy fell, expecting to hit the water. Instead, he fell straight into a boat.

The people in the boats had nothing to do, except wait. " "Aunt Sam? Is that you?" said a little voice. Sam sat up, and saw that it was Cora! "Cora! You made it. Talk to me, kid!" she said happily, hugging the little girl.

"Wait, where's your dad?" Cora's eyes filled with tears. "Daddy didn't get on. Mommy wouldn't go without him, but she made sure I was safe," she said. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Sam said, trying her best to comfort the crying child. "Where's Uncle Jack and Uncle Fabrizio?" Cora asked, wiping the tears away. "Dunno. Haven't seen them since Fabrizio tried to get Helga and her parents to a boat," Sam replied.

 _Tommy was floating. The last thing he remembered was screaming at Murdoch then...nothing. "Hello, son," said a voice. It was his father, Seamus. "Father?" Asked Tommy. "Yes, lad, it's me," Seamus said._ _"Did I kick the bucket?" Tommy asked. "No. You got shot. You're in limbo. Unlike me, you have the choice to stay here with me or to live for that lass in the boat. Make your choice, lad. Die and go to the Otherworld or live for the girl you love," explained Seamus._ _"You mean Sam made it off the ship?"_ _"Aye, but make your choice quickly, son." As Tommy turned to leave, Seamus called him back._ _"That lass of yours...she's a real looker. Live for her if for no one else."_ _In that time and in that place Thomas Ryan of Belfast, Ireland made his choice to live for his love._

Tommy awoke with a vengeance. "Easy, lad, you'll be all right," said a man with a strong British accent.

"Haven't seen him since Fabrizio tried to get Helga and her parents to a boat" said a very American voice. "Sam! Sam!" he yelled.

"Sam!" someone yelled. Someone Irish. "Tommy! I'm here!" she called, waving frantically. Officer Lowe tied the two boats together and everyone from Sam and Helga's boat climbed into the other one. "Are you all right?" he asked anxiously. "I'm fine. You've been shot!" she gasped.

"I'm fine," he said, waving off Sam's attentions. "No you aren't. Get ready. This'll hurt like Hades," she told him, tearing strips of her dress. Cora started to cry again, so Helga started singing to her in her own native Norsk. Sam pressed both hands down on the wound, and Tommy screamed. It was an animal sound which the girl hoped never to hear again.

"I'm sorry. I had to put pressure on the wound," she told him. She tied the strips together and made a tourniquet out of them and tied it round his shoulders. "Are ya sure you're no doctor?" Tommy panted through the pain, trying to make a joke.

"It's basic first aid. I can teach you, assuming we make it out of this alive," said Sam. She put her head on his uninjured shoulder. "This was supposed to be the Ship of Dreams," sniffed Sam, wiping tears from her eyes. "Instead, it turned out a nightmare."

He held her close and let her cry. "I...we won't be alone when we get to New York. My sister is meeting me there, remember?" he said. He spoke to her in Gaelic, trying to calm her down.

"I thought Gaeilge was a dead language," she sniffed. "My parents always spoke it to me and my sisters growin' up," Tommy told her. "Well, then, erin go bragh, love," Sam said. "So tell me again about your Ireland."

So he told her of the constant rain, the rolling hills, the village where he'd grown up and the time he accidentally set the barn aflame. Gradually he lapsed into the the Gaeilge of his youth, and though Sam couldn't understand a word he said, she still found the guttural noises and clipped vowels as soothing as any Mozart concert.

The folk in the boats had nothing to do. It wasn't the wondering or the hunger or the cold. The boredom was the worst part. No one was even sure if they were waiting to die or waiting to live.

"Hey, there's a ship!" said Cora, spotting the Carpathia on the horizon. Sam scrambled to wave her shawl, and the people in the boat started waving arms, blankets, handkerchiefs, and anything else they had to attract the attention of the people onboard the Carpathia.

"Hey! Hey! OVER HERE! HERE!" Sam shouted, waving like a madwoman. Officer Moody, the one who'd let Sam, Jack, and Fabrizio board, blew on his whistle as loudly as he could.

Slowly but surely, the Carpathia turned round. One of her officers lowered a ladder. "Cora, you go up first," said Sam. "I won't be far behind." One by one, everyone on the boat climbed up on deck, where they were given tea and blankets.

"Can I take your names, please?" asked the officer on Carpathia. "Yeah, sure. I'm Sam Miller, the little girl is Cora Miller, my sister, the older blonde woman is Johanne Dahl, and the younger blonde woman is her daughter Helga," Sam said. "Thank you, miss," said the officer. The ballroom was set up as a shelter for the survivors, and Sam, Tommy, Helga, Cora, and Mrs. Dahl promptly fell asleep on the floor, too exhausted to do anything else.

Meanwhile, Carpathia had taken on another boatload of passengers. Among them were Fabrizio, Olaf and Bjorn, all tired, cold and hungry but otherwise fine. "Per favore, sir, do you have a survivors' list?" Fabrizio asked.

"No. I'm sorry, lad, but head down to the ballroom. That's where we're keeping the survivors until we dock. Just 'round that way," said the harried-looking officer, pointing. "Grazie, signore," he murmured and motioned for Bjorn and Olaf to follow him.

Immediately upon entering the room, the three of them were given blankets and cups of hot tea. He spotted a head of blond hair, and his heart skipped a beat!

"Helga! Helga! Dio mio, grazie!" he cried, wrapping his arms around her. "Fabrizio! Gudskjelov at du er all right!" Helga said, kissing him and forgetting the precious little bit of English she did know.

"Is'a fine. I fine, and your pappa also," he said. "Helga! Gudskjelov at du er trygg!" Olaf said, kissing his daughter's forehead and taking his wife's hand. (Thank goodness you are all right!)

"Jeg elsker deg, pappa, jeg elsker deg," Helga said. "Pappa, dette er Fabrizio, Sam, og Cora," she said, pointing out each person. "De er mine venner." (I love you, Father, I love you. This is Fabrizio, Sam, and Cora. They are my friends.)

"Helga introduce you to her family," Bjorn translated. "Pleased to meet you," said Sam through Bjorn. "Signorina Sam, have'a you seen Jack?" Fabrizio asked Sam.

She shook her head. "I haven't seen him or Rose since Helga, Mrs. Dahl and I got on the boat. I'm so sorry, Fabrizio," she said. "I'm just glad you three are okay."

"So what do we do now?" asked Cora. "I' no know, piccola principessa," said Fabrizio.

Three days went by, during which the group tried to make some sense of what they had just survived. When they arrived in New York, Sam climbed wearily onto the dock.

Sam and the others later found that due to her quick thinking, all the boats had been loaded up to full capacity. Well over 1200 people had survived. Sam had changed the future but undoubtedly for the better.


	11. Aftermath of Disaster

The next few hours were a blur to Sam. Tommy was whisked to the Carpathia's sick bay despite his protests that he was "Fit as a fiddle."Jack went to a separate doctor to be treated for frostbite. Sam and the others were also checked over to be sure that they were okay.

After a fairly thorough checkup, Sam was allowed to visit Tommy, who was fast asleep. She put her raven hair back in a braid and intertwined her hand with that of her sleeping boyfriend. Tommy stirred from his slumber and woke. "Hey, lass."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. How's your wound healing up?" she asked. "Dr. Thornton said it just missed me heart. But thanks to you, I won't be joining my father," he told her. "You saved my life."

"I've lost so many already. I didn't want you to be one of them," she said. Tommy sat up a bit too quickly and winced at the pain. "Easy. They told me they had to stitch you up, and we don't want the stitches to open up," Sam cautioned him.

"Do you know how many made it off the ship?" he asked. "I asked the captain of Carpathia about that. He said that his officers counted twelve hundred of us. That's good, because the first time the ship sank only seven hundred made it off the ship, and another five were rescued from the sea," said Sam.

"What about all our friends?" Tommy inquired. "They're all fine. Jack is being treated for frostbite as we speak, and the Gundersons, the Dahls and Fabrizio are in the ballroom. As for Cora, she made friends with another little girl about her age and they're playing with her doll now."

"Samantha." It was the first time Tommy had ever used her full first name since they'd met. "Sing for me."

"I can't sing to save my life, Tommy," she protested. "Please," Tommy begged. So Samantha had no choice but to oblige. She began to sing one of the Gaelic songs she thought had been lost to her memory forever. She began to sing an old Irish love song. She knew Tommy would like that.

 ** _"Siuil, siuil siuil a ruin_**

 ** _Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin_**

 ** _Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion_**

 ** _Siuil, siuil, siul a run,_**

 ** _Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin_**

 ** _Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion_**

 ** _Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan_**

 ** _I wish I was on yonder hill_**

 ** _'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill,_**

 ** _And every tear would turn a mill,_**

 ** _I'll sell my rod, I'll sell my reel,_**

 ** _I'll sell my only spinning wheel,_**

 ** _To buy my love a sword of steel._**

 ** _Siuil, siuil, siul a run,_**

 ** _Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin_**

 ** _Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion_**

 ** _Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan_**

 ** _I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red,_**

 ** _And 'round the world I'll beg my bread,_**

 ** _Until my parents shall wish me dead,_**

 ** _Siuil, siuil, siul a run,_**

 ** _Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin_**

 ** _Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion_**

 ** _Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan_**

 ** _Siuil, siuil, siul a run,_**

 ** _Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin_**

 ** _Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion_**

 ** _Siuil, siuil, siul a run,_**

 ** _Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin_**

 ** _Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion_**

 ** _Is go dte tu mhuirnine slawn."_**

"Tommy...he will be all right?" said a familiar Italian voice. "Hi, Fabrizio," said Sam. "The doctors said he'll be fine. He's sleeping now. The bullet barely missed his heart. But he will be all right," said the American woman.

"I'a want to thank you. For saving us all. How did you know that theship would sink?" he asked. "I will tell you and the others one day. But not today," said Sam. "But I did know Olaf wouldn't let Helga or her mother go on to the lifeboats with us if they didn't understand that we were trying to warn them. That's why I called Bjorn on the scene."

"I know you cannot tell me how you knew the ship would sink. But thank you. Had it not'a been for you, we would all be dead, amico mio," said Fabrizio, embracing her. She didn't miss the Italian endearment. "Go, be with your Helga, ragazzo mio. She needs you. She's pretty shaken up. We all are."

"Actually, I will stay with Tommy. You get some rest," said Fabrizio, giving Sam another hug. "Thanks. You're right, I do need sleep. I look as though I could play the lead in Night of the Living Dead," she pointed out. Seeing Fabri's confused expression, she shrugged. "Never mind. Let me know when he wakes, will you?"

After acquiring Fabri's assurance that, yes, he would, she went to the ballroom to be with her friends. She lay down and slept...and slept...and slept as though she hadn't slept in years. She awoke to Rose gently shaking her awake.

"What is it? How long was I out?" Samantha asked. "All day. Come see, we're in New York," said Rose. "Jack and the others are by the rail."

Samantha rose up and went to the rail. Before her was the glorious Statue of Liberty. "Is beautiful, no?" Fabrizio pointed out. "Yes, it is," said Tommy, holding his great love close. She didn't bug him about being out of bed. Tommy was like her: stubborn and insistent. If he wanted to see the Statue, then goddamn it, she wasn't going to stand in his way.

"I saw it once as a child. It amazed me then and it amazes me now," said Samantha. "Sa pen," agreed Helga. "Aunt Sam, can I ask you something?" said little Cora. "Of course," said Sam. "Why did you tell the officer man I was your sister?" asked Cora.

"Well, I think there are two reasons for that, the first being that over the last couple of days, you have become something of a sister to me. But I made it official because I knew that if we told him who you really are, that your parents didn't make it,"-at this the little girl's eyes filled with fresh tears, and Sam hugged her new sister close-"they'd send you to an orphanage. If they send you to an orphanage we may never see you again and we don't want that."

"So where do we all go from here?" asked Tommy. "I don't know. I suppose we try to forget and move on with our lives," said Sam.

But was that even possible?


	12. Ellis Island

_**9:30 PM, 18 April 1912**_

Sam, Tommy and the others were emotionally exhausted. They'd survived the ship sinking, but all of them would carry forever in their hearts the memory of that night. And though they were in New York, their journey was far from over. Soon, Ellis Island was in view, and the passengers aboard Carpathia had been transferred to a smaller ferryboat, presumably because Carpathia was too big to fit into the harbor on her own.

"So what now?" asked Sam. Tommy shrugged. "We find jobs and places to live. We start again."

Sam tucked her necklace under her shirtwaist so it was not visible. She knew they'd have to be processed at Ellis, and she didn't want complete strangers taking away Mama's last gift to her before That Dark Day. Noticing her anxiety, Tommy held her close. "Hey. Are you all right?"

She scoffed. "Given what we've just survived, I'm about as okay as you can expect."

He kissed her temple. "It'll be okay. We've already survived the worst. I'm here."

Officers wearing uniforms greeted their ferryboat as it docked. Sam sighed. "Here we go. Stay close to me?" Tommy looked at her with love in his eyes. "Always, love."

The officers shouted and motioned for the passengers to walk down the gangplank to the main building, passing out numbered ID tags. Sam clung to Tommy's hand tightly, terrified to let go. The commotion was overwhelming. Men, women and children struggled off the boat, carrying trunks, cloth sacks, and suitcases. They followed one another down a path leading to the main building and baggage room.

Benches lined the room, and an American flag hung from the balcony. It was noisy here too. _Thank the gods I don't get headaches often._ Immigrants from all over the globe sat resting and hoping. Fabrizio, Helga, Jack and Rose sat by the window.

"Leave your bags here. You will be able to return to them later!" one of the officers commanded. _Just as well. All I have are the pictures of my family._ The group climbed the stairs leading to the registry room, where doctors looked for signs of trouble walking, speaking, or other imperfections. Luckily no one in Samantha's circle failed this test. One Italian woman who was not so lucky walked with an obvious limp, and the doctors didn't miss it. The poor woman was dragged from her two young children, who were crying out for her. She fought tooth and nail to get back to them, but with no success. Samantha flinched. "I won't let them take you from me," Tommy muttered. "They're going to ask you loads of questions. Answer as many as you can, as correctly as you can. And whatever you do, don't fly off the handle or say anything stupid. Please," she muttered back.

One by one, the immigrants were randomly selected for inspection. Finally, a nurse led Samantha to her doctor. The six second test was aptly named; the whole ordeal was short and sweet. The doc picked up an evil-looking tool, and she stiffened. " What is that?" The doctor told her it was a buttonhook, used for lifting a person's eyelids to check for trachoma. Luckily, Sam was declared safe. She was called to speak with a uniformed inspector at a desk. He smiled kindly. "Good evening, miss. I am Inspector Davis. Do you speak any language other than English?" She nodded timidly. "I'm fluent in several languages, sir, but English is my first language."

"Do you know why you are here?" Inspector Davis asked. "I'm here because you need to determine whether I am fit to reenter the United States, and to see whether I have any health problems, and whether I will be able to support myself," she said. The inspector smiled again. "Correct. I could not have said it better myself."

She blushed, pleased. "Thank you, sir."

"Now I will ask you some questions. What is your name?"

"Samantha Miller Ryan, sir." She gave them Tommy's name because she knew women weren't allowed to enter the States alone yet.

"How old are you?"

"I'm 22, sir."

"Are you male or female?"

"Female, sir."

"Are you married or single?"

"I'm married, sir. To an Irishman."

"What is your occupation?"

"I sold books before booking passage on Titanic, sir."

"Are you able to read and write?"

"Yes, sir."

"What country are you from?"

"I'm American, sir. Born and raised in New York."

"What is your race?"

"I'm white, sir, or Caucasian as some call it."

"What is the name and address of a relative from your native country?"

She swallowed. She didn't know anyone in this version of New York, but she had to think fast. "Jack Dawson, 103 Orchard Street. He's a friend, sir."

"What is your final destination in America?"

"New York, preferably Brooklyn or the Lower East Side, sir."

"Who paid for your passage?"

"I don't know. My Titanic ticket was won in a poker game, sir."

The inspector raised an eyebrow. "You were on the Titanic? Poor child. I heard about what happened. Did your husband survive?"

"He did, sir. They're processing him now, sir."

"That's good. How much money do you have with you?"

"I don't, sir."

"Have you been to America before?"

"Yes, sir. I was born and raised here, as I said, sir."

"Are you meeting a relative in America?"

"No, sir."

"Have you ever been in a prison, asylum, or almshouse?"

"Thankfully, no, sir."

"Are you a polygamist? Are you an anarchist?"

"No to both, sir."

"Are you coming to America for a job? Where will you work?"

"In a shop, or perhaps a library. Either way, I will find something, sir."

"What is the condition of your health?"

"I don't have any health problems, if that is what you're asking, sir."

"Are you deformed or crippled?"

"No, sir."

"How tall are you?"

"Five feet and one inch, sir."

"What color are your eyes and hair?"

"I'm a crow head with blue eyes, sir."

The inspector smiled. "Crow head?"

"That's what my Tommy calls it, sir."

"Do you have any identifying marks? Scars, birthmarks, tattoos?"

"No, sir."

"Where were you born?"

"Right here in New York, sir. Brooklyn to be exact, sir."

"Who was the first President of America?"

"It was George Washington, sir."

"What are the colors of our flag?"

"Red, white and blue, sir. And very pretty colors too, sir."

"Indeed they are. How many stripes are on our flag? How many stars?"

"Thirteen stripes and 48 stars, as of this past Valentine's Day, sir."

"Very good! What is the 4th of July?"

It's the day the Declaration of Independence was signed, essential making America an independent country, rather than one ruled by Great Britain, sir."

"What is the Constitution?"

"It is a document that outlines the basic laws and rights of citizens and residents, sir."

"What are the three branches in our government?"

"Executive, Judicial, and Legislative, sir."

"Which President freed the slaves?"

"It was Abraham Lincoln, sir."

"Can you name the 13 original Colonies?"

"I can, sir. Would you like me to list them alphabetically or just name them?"

Inspector Davis chuckled. "As impressive as that is, just naming them will do."

"Very well sir. Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Georgia, Connecticut, Massachusetts Bay, Maryland, South Carolina, New Hampshire, Virginia, New York, North Carolina, and Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, sir."

"Very impressive, miss! Indeed. Not many can do that. Who signs bills into law?"

"First, a bill must pass both houses of Congress by a majority vote, sir. After that, it's sent to the President. If he signs it, it becomes law. If not he vetoes it, but the veto can be overridden, although by whom, I can't remember, sir."

"Who is the current President of the United States?"

"His name is William Taft, sir."

"What is America's national anthem called?"

"The Star-Spangled Banner, sir, written by Francis Scott Key, sir."

Inspector Davis was in awe. Not one immigrant had ever passed through his station and answered as many questions correctly. He finished up his paperwork, and let her go. "You are a very smart woman, Mrs. Ryan. Your husband is a lucky man indeed."

She dipped into a curtsy. "Thank you, sir, but I just like reading. What comes next?"

"You will need to climb the Stairs of Separation, and there will be offices at the bottom of the stairs giving away rail tickets, money, and a post office should you need to send a letter. Goodbye, Mrs. Ryan."

"Good bye."

Tommy was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. She sat down next to him. "I passed with flying colors. And you?"

"Same here. We're Americans now!"

She sighed. "There's something I need to tell you, love."

Tommy frowned. "What is, Sammy?"

She looked around to make sure no one was watching or listening. "Being from the future is a bitch. Women aren't allowed to travel alone, so...I had to tell them you and I were...married," she blurted out.

"Why would you do that?" he asked angrily.

"Don't you bite my head off! How the hell was I supposed to know we'd have to go through Ellis Island? I had to think, fast, okay? They would have detained me if I hadn't done it, and then who knows when I would have seen you again?"

He caressed her hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You're an attorney," Sam said, holding his hand. Seeing the blank look on his face, she shrugged. "Never mind. Perfectly good Bones reference just wasted on the likes of you."

There was an exchange office where Tommy was able to get some money and an office for the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society where they were able to get some proper clothes. They were also given a place to sleep and a large sack of food. When Samantha looked in the sack, she found a paper bag of oats, four potatoes, four apples, four oranges, and a small loaf of bread apiece.

* * *

The next morning, the two of them set out to find jobs. Samantha's first stop was the HIAS office. The receptionist was able to find her a job at the New York Public Library. They even met up with the rest of her friends from Titanic. All but Bjorn had survived.

"So where do we go now?" asked Tommy. "I know of a place. I call it the Sailor's Home. We can see if they will take us in," said Jack. So the ten of them went to the Home. "Please, sir, we've just survived the sinking of the Titanic. Would you have any place for us to stay?" Samantha asked the man at the front desk.

"Yes. Are all of you together?" he asked. Samantha let Jack handle the room assignments while she looked around in wonder. What looked like the lobby was richly furnished, with palm trees and comfortable chintz armchairs. The group roomed two by two: Jack with Fabrizio, Rose with Helga, Johanne and Olaf. Samantha ended up with Cora and Tommy.

Samantha went down to the lobby , munching on an apple from her food supply.

She noticed that there were well over a hundred others in the room and a wreath of flowers hung nearby.

"What on earth is happening?" she asked the priest. "We are having a memorial service for all those who died on Titanic," he said. So Samantha rapped on the doors of her friends and asked them to come down.

"What are we doing here?" Tommy asked. "They're having a memorial service for the victims of the sinking. I wanted to pay my respects. You don't mind, do you?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Today, we are here to remember those lost on the RMS Titanic," the priest began. The service went on for an hour before Father O'Donnell asked if anyone wanted to say something. Timidly, Sam raised her hand.

She made her way to the podium. "My name is Samantha Miller, and my friends and I survived the disaster. I don't know a whole lot about Christian mourning practices, but I do know Jewish ones. So I will remember the dead of Titanic in the only way I know." She cleared her throat and began to sing one of the precious few songs she still remembered from her own time.

 ** _"L'chi lach, to a land that I will show you_**

 ** _Leich l'cha, to a place you do not know_**

 ** _L'chi lach, on your journey I will bless you_**

 ** _and you shall be a blessing_**

 ** _And you shall be a blessing_**

 ** _And you shall be a blessing, l'chi lach_**

 ** _L'chi lach, and I shall make your name great_**

 ** _Leich l'cha, and all shall praise your name_**

 ** _L'chi lach, to the place that I will show you_**

 ** _L'simchas chayim_**

 ** _L'simchas chayim_**

 ** _L'simchas chayim l'chi lach."_**

The onlookers began to clap, and quietly she made her way back to her seat. Samantha slipped her fingers easily into Tommy's and rested her head on his shoulder. She cleared her throat and began to murmur the Jewish prayer for the dead, called the Mourner's Kaddish, under her breath.

 ** _"Yitgadal v'yitkadash sh'mei raba._**

 ** _B'alma di v'ra chirutei,_**

 ** _v'yamlich malchutei,_**

 ** _b'chayeichon uv'yomeichon_**

 ** _uv'chayei d'chol beit Yisrael,_**

 ** _baagala uviz'man kariv. V'im'ru: Amen._**

 ** _Y'hei sh'mei raba m'varach_**

 ** _l'alam ul'almei almaya._**

 ** _Yitbarach v'yishtabach v'yitpaar_**

 ** _v'yitromam v'yitnasei,_**

 ** _v'yit'hadar v'yitaleh v'yit'halal_**

 ** _sh'mei d'kud'sha b'rich hu,_**

 ** _l'eila min kol birchata v'shirata,_**

 ** _tushb'chata v'nechemata,_**

 ** _daamiran b'alma. V'imru: Amen._**

 ** _Y'hei sh'lama raba min sh'maya,_**

 ** _v'chayim aleinu v'al kol Yisrael._**

 ** _V'imru: Amen._**

 ** _Oseh shalom bimromav,_**

 ** _Hu yaaseh shalom aleinu,v'al kol Yisrael. V'imru: Amen."_**

Tommy watched her in quiet prayer. She was so beautiful, calm and focused. He couldn't believe this bonny lass was his. No one would have the sense to fall for a girl in three days, as he had. But logic had long ago been thrown out the window.

The group went to bed, slowly and sleepily saying their goodnights. Seeing Cora's scared expression, Samantha sat the little girl down on the bed. "Hey, I know you're afraid, Cora. We all are. But we are here now, and I promise never to let anything happen to you. You're safe now. Try to sleep, all right?"

Cora nodded. "There's a good girl. Here, take this," said Sam, wrapping the blanket she'd gotten from the Carpathia around the little girl's shoulders. Cora's eyes were already starting to droop from exhaustion. Tommy climbed into the top bunk. "Goodnight, all," he yawned.

Sam crawled between the sheets and Cora snuggled up to her. Samantha closed her eyes and thought no more.

* * *

 _ **April 19, 1912**_

That morning, Samantha was the first to rise. She roused the sleepy child out of bed. "Come on, Cora. It's time to wake up, love," she coaxed. She washed and dressed herself and Cora. Tommy gave a great big lio-nlike yawn and stretched before hitting his head on the ceiling. "Shite!"

Samantha couldn't help but laugh. "Serves you right for taking the top bunk!" she teased. "Oh, aye? Well, you'll have to pay for that!" Tommy teased and began tickling her. "Tommy, stop! AI!" she squealed.

"Gotcha!" Tommy crowed. "And now I claim my prize!" With that he gave a her a rough and playful kiss. "Ew!" said Cora, covering her eyes with her hands. "I swear, the two of you are just too much," said Samantha, shaking her head and chuckling.

Samantha and Cora washed, dressed, and went downstairs to meet the others for for a breakfast of oatmeal, good bread, juice and fruit. Sam swiped some rolls to add to her and Tommy's stash qof food. After breakfast, Samantha and Cora began looking for jobs. "I'll come with you," said Tommy.

"No freaking way! You're still wounded. You need to heal up," said Sam. "I'm fine!" protested Tommy, but his girlfriend was having none of it. "No! Damn it, Tommy, you almost died! You need to rest," she pointed out. "i'll bring you something if you're that hungry, love."

"Alright, I'll stay here. Good luck," said Tommy.

That day, Sam went in search of a synagogue to worship in. There seemed to be so many! In a hundred years the number of Jewish New Yorkers seemed not to have changed a bit. Samantha breathed in the air, a pungent mix of cooking food, unwashed bodies, and laundry soap. Despite the hundred-year time difference, this was still her city. The streets of New York City in 1912 weren't all that different from the streets of New York City in 2016. The smell of sewers still hung in the air like a criminal on the noose. Cars and horse-drawn carriages still traveled the roads. Immigrants still shouted at one another in Spanish, Chinese, and a multitude of other tongues and accents.

She found one synagogue in particular, called the Bialystoker Synagogue. It was very light and open, with a richly decorated Holy Ark. This was where the holy Torah scrolls her kept, she knew. She had been to this beautiful serene place once before.

The place was beautiful, with complex gold leaf and beautiful Jewish art depicting scenes from the Torah. On one side was a mural of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. The women's balcony still was adjacent to the beautiful stained glass windows, and the smell of old and new holy books alike hung heavy in the air.

"May I help you, miss?" asked man with a heavy Russian accent, sidecurls and a full beard. He must be Hasidic, Samantha thought to herself. She had read about the Hasidim. Extremely closed off to the outside world, they practically lived in their own little world, and each Hasidic group had its own rules. To the untrained eye, all Hasids looked the same. But unlike most, Sam could tell a Satmar from a Lubavitcher.

"I'm new to New York, and I was wondering if I might pray here," she asked the Rabbi, whose name was Abram Berkovitz. "And where is the rest of your family?" he asked her. "My parents and brother died in a car crash. I was five. My uncle raised me until I turned eighteen, when he also passed on. All I have is my little sister Cora," she told him in English.

It took several weeks, but Tommy's gunshot wound healed slowly but surely. But it never stopped paining him. Helga and her mother found work as bakers, and Rose became the very thing her mother had feared: a seamstress. The work was hard, but it paid well, and she was good at it.

Tommy sought refuge at a local market and Fabrizio ended up working at the Immigrant Aid Society in Manhattan. Since Fabrizio spoke both Italian and English, he served as a translator for his Italian comrades.

Slowly but surely the group began to regain control of their lives. Cora stopped having nightmares about the sinking. Helga and her parents began learning English, although Mr. Dahl had a more difficult time of it than his wife and daughter. Rose started dancing again, and Samantha even started playing piano again. She almost forgot that she was not of this time. Almost.

 ** _A/N: The places mentioned in this chapter are real. Bialystoker Synagogue has been standing since 1865 and still stands today. The Sailor's Home was originally called the American Seamen's Friend Society Sailors' Home and Institute and is now called the Jane Hotel. Four days after Titanic sank, the survivors had a memorial service for all those that didn't survive the wreck, so I decided to insert that into the story as well. As for all the Jewish facts and tidbits scattered thoughout the chapter, I decided to insert my Jewish heritage into the story. Don't worry, it will become part of the plot! This is not the end, I assure you._**


	13. Argument

**_April 24, 1912_**

 ** _A/N: There is going to be a LOT of Sam/Tommy sexy fluff in this chapter._**

A month went by. The group found apartments to live in, within a half hour's walk of one another. Sam was taking care of Cora, and Tommy came to check on them every day, bringing fresh fruits and veggies from the market where he worked.

Cora was enrolled at PS 34 and was doing well. Everyone was finally starting to get past that god awful night.

But there were still hurdles to overcome. This became apparent one night as the couple sat companionably together on the couch. Tommy was reading the paper and Sam was knitting a blanket. Cora was spending the night at her friend's house.

She looked sad, wistful. "What is it, love?" Tommy inquired, taking her hand. "Goddamn it, I don't belong here, Tommy!" she burst out.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean here! In this place, this...this... _time!_ This isn't what makes me _me!_ This isn't who I am! Stressing over finals, swearing like a fucking sailor, reading shitty fanfiction, _that's me!_ That's who I am, and having to get used to a whole other reality...I'm sorry, but I cannot fucking handle that!"

"What are you yelling at me for?" the hotheaded but attractive Irishman demanded.

"Because whether you know it or not, you're part of the problem! Coming here was overwhelming enough, now I have to put my heart up for grabs too!" she shouted.

"I'm part of the problem? How dare you say that. I had no more control over this whole shitstorm than you did!"

"And that is what I'm so pissed about! You've created this confusion in me and you don't even know what you've done!"

The look in his eye was pure loathing. "Fine then. If you think I'm a problem, then I'll get out, you insufferable bitch!"

Her resounding slap was like a door slamming. "Oh, fuck you! Call me bitch again, asshole. I fucking dare you," she spat.

"You are unbelievable, blamin' me for something I've nothing to do with. You want me out of here? Fine! I'm gone!" he snapped, slamming the door behind him.

"Fucking cocksucking motherfucking shitswizzling son of a pox-ridden whore bitch!" she screamed at the top of her voice, breaking down and punching the shit out of her pillow.

The next morning, she woke confused, tired and sad. She'd been a real bitch to the only man who'd ever had the balls to truly love her.

She wanted to apologize, but she knew Tommy was unlikely to ever want to see her again. She'd said some horrible things to him. He needed space. So she occupied her mind with work and caring for herself and Cora over the next few weeks.

 ** _I just hope I haven't pushed him away forever._**

Samantha was shelving some volumes on Roman history when Tommy came over. "Can we talk? Please?"

She set her book down, wary of the verbal shitstorm that was sure to hit. "Can it wait until after my shift?"

He shook his head. "No. I need to get this out."

Sam sighed. "Fine. But pretend like you're asking me a question, else my boss'll skin me alive."

She looked over her shoulder to be sure the coast was clear. It was.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you a bitch-"

"Don't be. I'm glad you did. I was a bitch, and we both know it. I should never have calletd you part of the problem. I'm a stupid goddamn idiot and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again. Can you forgive me?" she blurted out in a rush.

"Of course. Damn it, Sam, I love you. That being said, don't ever blame me for something I've no control over again. You made me feel like a real arsehole, and for no good reason too," he said.

"I know I've hurt you. I feel like an ass," she admitted. "Love can be such bullshit sometimes."

Tommy walked her home, and that night, she slept in peace.

 ** _The next morning_**

There was a knock at the door. Sam smiled, knowing full well it was Tommy. Since being processed at Ellis, she had gotten to know him better. She loved him, but their hurried conversations aboard the doomed vessel had not counted for much.

She was slowly getting used to him, and to life in 1912. There were times when she reached for her phone and remembered where and when she was. Prices were cheaper, but women had less rights. They couldn't vote or even dine alone.

She opened the door, and her hunch had been right. "Well now, if it isn't the Irish bastard that stole my heart," she teased. He was dressed in a clean pressed gray suit and bowler hat, and he was looking cocky. There was a large basket dangling off his left arm. "What are you looking so sassy about?"

Tommy looked at Sam, and she could see a faint blush. "I thought we could have an indoor picnic."

She smiled, a loving and warm smile. "You're asking me out." Bashful, the Irishman nodded.

"I'll go with you," she said. "This would be our first date."

"It's strange, how openly affectionate you are," he said, still not sure if it was appropriate.

"Why is it so strange? Are people not like that here, or in Ireland?" she asked, absentmindedly running her thumb over his rough hand.

"No. They aren't. But perhaps they should be," he told her.

She relaxed into him while munching on the sandwiches he had brought.

Tommy tilted her chin so that she was facing him. _**She's so beautiful.**_

"Why are you staring at me?"

He shook his head gently. "I've never cared about anyone as much as I care about you."

Sam sighed. "I'm touched. And I will try to be gentle with your heart. I won't break it like mine was broken."

"Who broke your heart?" Tommy asked. "My last boyfriend cheated on me with someone I thought was a friend," she told him sadly.

"I won't hurt you, darling. I couldn't do that to you," he said tenderly, with love in his voice.

"I know that. You could no more break my heart than you could cut off your own head."

"Good."

"Why did you choose me anyway?" she asked. "You do what you want. You're smart, and hilarious and kind and so, so beautiful."

"I don't know what to say," she whispered.

"Don't say anything. Just kiss me, love," Tommy said. His lips connected to hers as she immediately melted into his strong, muscular arms, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and he tightened his grip. His lips were soft and warm, and his kiss was passionate and yet gentle. She could taste the sweetish tang of apples. They broke away a moment before kissing again, this one even better than before. She looked into his gorgeous melted-chocolate eyes, filled with love (and lust), and ran her fingers through his hair. She sighed and breathed in his soapy-woodsmoke scent. His heart was pounding against her hand, and she could tell he was enjoying this display of affection. He looked at her in wonder, unable to believe what he hoped was about to happen.

 ** _I love you I love you I love you_**

He knew this wasn't some crush. This was love, real love.

"Oh, Sammy..." he sighed against her lips.

He smiled, and they went to Sam's bed.

Tommy looked deep into her eyes, and she realized he was asking permission nonverbally. "Yes," she breathed. He kissed her again, fiercely and with more passion than he ever had. She fumbled to unbutton her shirt, and swore when her hands wouldn't stop shaking. "Let me help," he offered, unbuttoning and flinging the offending garment to the floor. He gazed at her naked body and she saw that he was hesitating. Smiling, she took his hand, kissed it gently, and and guided it to her breast, and he started to squeeze gently.

Tommy kissed the hard, pink nipple, sucking ever so gently, and Sam felt a rush of pleasure. She removed his clothes as well, and took and long look at him. She could see that his cock was more than ready, and he pinned her to the mattress with a passionate kiss. She moaned, arching her back in happiness. He gave a devilish grin and slid into her. He began to thrust, kissing her all the while. She felt amazing to him, warm and tight and wet all at the same time. She wrapped her arms around his neck, relishing the feeling of him inside of her. Over and over he thrusted, until he was spent. Sam wrapped her arms round his neck and held it to her heart. He was shaking and sweating. "God, you're shaking. Shhh, its all right, love. I'm here."

Tommy looked at her in pure adoration. "Was that your first time?"

She shook her head, hair falling into her eyes. "My first was a guy I dated when I was 18."

"Did you...I mean, was he good?"

"He was a virgin, like me. Neither of us knew what the fuck we were doing, so I still don't know if it was good sex or shitty sex."

He was quiet. Samantha realized a truth. "Was this your first time?"

He nodded, and he held her hand under the blanket. "You were good. Very good. I've never felt that good during sex."

"Sex. Is that what they call it where you come from?" Tommy asked curiously. Sam nodded. He kissed her, gently and with love. Content, the pair fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.


	14. Celebrations and Big Decisions

**_A/N How did you guys enjoy that last chapter? I've been dying to do a sex scene since I started this monster back in September 2014. This chapter is most likely going to be loooooooong. Will most likely focus on the friendship of Sam, Helga, and Fabrizio._**

The next morning, Sam woke alone. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and ran her fingers through her long black tresses. "Tommy? Where are you, sweetheart?"

He was gone, but there was a love note on the nightstand. She smiled and unfurled it.

 _Dear Sammy,_

 _Our courtship has been insane, wrought with arguments, love and laughs. I love you so, so much. I've loved before but none of them matched up to your wit. You are the life of my heart, and I will love you until I die. If there's life after that, then damn it, I will love you then as well. I love your eyes, your smile, your sweet disposition, and just about everything else. Please, love, never change for anybody, least of all me._

 _Love from your Tommy_

Sam held the letter close to her heart smiling like the lovestruck idiot she had once accused Jack of being.

She loved him, plain and simple. He was kind and funny, and would rather die than hurt her. What more could she possibly want?

There was a knock at the front door. "Coming!" she yelled, scrambling to get dressed. She opened the door to find Fabrizio. "Hey, Fabri, what is it?"

"I have come to ask you a favor. May I come in, _bella ragazza_?" he asked nervously. **_He's fidgety as all holy fuck. Something's up._**

"Of course! You know you're always welcome here. Now sit your ass down and I'll go make some tea."

He gratefully wrapped his hands around the steaming hot mug. "Now what is it?" Sam asked kindly.

"Is Helga. She has known me for some time now, and I would'a like to declare my...what is word?.. _intenzione_ to her," he said timidly.

"You want to date her, don't you? Or court, as some people here call it?"

"Well _si_ , but my hopes are more _permanente_ ," he said, hoping Sam would catch on.

"Holy shit, you're going to ask her to marry you?" Sam asked in disbelief. "Si."

"So what is it you came to me for then?" asked the American girl. "If she say yes, I would'a like you to be _damigella d'onore_ ," he replied.

"I'm not sure what that means."

Fabrizio searched his mind for the correct word. When he couldn't find it, he let out a stream of angry Italian oaths, none of which Sam could understand.

"Whoa, calm down! I have no idea what you're saying!" she said.

He calmed down. "Apologies, _signorina_. When I am nervous, I a'forget myself and speak my native tongue. I would like you to be maid of honor."

Sam smiled widely. "Oh, Fabri, I'd love to! Why is it me you have asked though?"

"Because were it not for you, both Helga and I would most likely be dead," the younger Italian said simply.

"I've never been to a Catholic wedding before. Do I need to prep a speech or something?" she asked.

"Do what feels right, _signorina_."

"Well now, this calls for a drink," she said pulling a glass of wine and two cups from the cupboard. "The best shit I could afford, I promise." She and Fabrizio clinked glasses. "L' chaim!"

Sam sent him home with a smile and a food basket containing homemade bread, some fruit and a jar of jam.

Over the next few weeks, Sam looked forward to hearing Fabrizio's answer. Her hopes were confirmed when the Norwegian girl came for a visit.

"What is it, Helga?" Sam asked. Helga was smiling shyly but knowingly.

"Fabrizio...he ask me to become wife," she said nervously. Her accent was much thicker than ever. **_I suppose that happens when foreigners are nervous_.** "Have you given him an answer yet?" Sam asked.

"I say yes. He love me. He kind, decent. Treat me like rare woman. You approve?"

The American woman nodded. "Of course I do. For G-d's sake, Helga, you're the closest thing I've got to a sister. I want the best for you, for both of you. Hell, Fabri even asked me to be a maid of honor."

Helga cocked her head. "He do this?"

"Yeah, he did."

"He trust you. You with strange talk, strange ways. Strange but kind. If Fabrizio trust you, I trust you."

Sam was touched. "And here I was thinking you only thought of me as some random batshit crazy girl you met on a doomed ship."

"You and I, we are friends. You not batshit crazy. You are good, kind woman with decent heart and good brain. You save all our lives. I not forget that."

Sam embraced Helga. The Norwegian girl was surprised, but returned the hug with enthusiasm. Both women felt happier at the end of the encounter.

Someone knocked at the door. It was Tommy. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, kissing her forehead. "It always blows my damn mind to hear you call me things like that. That I could mean so much to anyone."

"Well, it's not hard. You're my Sammy girl, after all. I wanted to see you, to hold you."

"Careful, Tommy, if we aren't careful, we'll turn into one of those couples I like to make fun of!" she teased, a twinkle in her eyes. "How was work?"

"It was all right. Busy today. Mr. Lachlan had me doing produce today."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Produce is. They let you eat the loose grapes and string beans."

They sat on the couch and Sam leaned in closer to him, breathing in the smell of soap. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "Oh, Sammy, I missed you," he sighed.

"I know, bud, I know. I had a rather exciting day. Helga came by."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What did she want?"

"Fabrizio came to me a few weeks ago. Said he was going to propose to her. Asked me to be the maid of honor. She told me she said yes. I just wonder how her father will take the news; he never liked Fabrizio."

"You shouldn't worry about that," he said, brushing some hair out of her face. "If Olaf really cares about her happiness, he'll make the right decision. Stubborn bastard though he may be, he loves his family."

Sam took Tommy's rough, calloused hand in her own soft one and kissed it gently. "See that's another reason I love you. You've got to be the best therapist I've ever had." He looked at her in adoration and hugged her again. "It baffles me that you've been through so much and still you have love left to give, and to me as well," he said into her hair. She smelled amazing, not like soap or flowers, but like rain.

And then they were kissing, passionate and gentle and rough at the same time. Hands ran through hair and explored bodies. He rubbed her back, and she gasped in response. This behavior wasn't fit for a girl of the future like her, but neither of them cared. Clothes were disposed of and they were in bed once again. The sheer excitement of skin against skin was more than either could handle.

After, as the pair lay in bed together, Sam started humming her favorite song, The Rains of Castamere. "That song, I've heard it before," said Tommy, absentmindedly running his thumb over her shoulder.

"I know you have. You roped me into singing it on Titanic, remember?" she pointed out. "But of course. Will you sing it now?" Tommy asked.

"For you, a thousand times over," said the American woman. Tommy smiled. He loved when she quoted things at him without him knowing what they were from. It reminded him that she was a beatiful smart woman.

 ** _"And who are you, the proud lord said,_**

 ** _That I must bow so low?_**

 ** _Only a cat of a different coat,_**

 ** _That's all the truth I know._**

 ** _In a coat of gold or a coat of red,_**

 ** _A lion still has claws,_**

 ** _And mine are long and sharp, my lord,_**

 ** _As long and sharp as yours._**

 ** _And so he spoke, and so he spoke,_**

 ** _That Lord of Castamere,_**

 ** _But now the rains weep o'er his hall,_**

 ** _With no one there to hear._**

 ** _Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,_**

 ** _And not a soul to hear."_**

"Beautiful," Tommy murmured. "Do you mean the song or me?" Sam asked.

"Both, definitely both. Where did you even hear that song, anyway?" he asked curiously.

"It's from Game of Thrones, a TV show/book series from my time. It's totally fucking epic. It's kind of like a combo of every fantasy novel ever and one of those raunchy, smutty sex novels they sell for a dime each in the back allies of the less reputable parts of town," she gushed.

Tommy roared with laughter, and wouldn't stop until Sam punched his arm. "What? What is it?"

"I love you, you sweet crazy girl!"

 ** _A month later_**

Sam, Rose, and Helga sat in front of the vanity table.

Helga was dressed in a beautiful gown of white lace which had once belonged to her mother. Her yellow hair was pinned up in an elegant updo with a dozen pearled hairpins. To Sam, she looked like something out of a movie.

Helga was visibly upset. "I am afraid! What if I stumble?"

Sam shrugged. "So what if you do? Fabrizio won't give a shit, and I won't, either."

Helga gave a nervous smile. "Samantha is right. Anyone with eyes can see Fabri loves you with all his heart. He isn't going to hate you if you make a mistake, he'll love you all the more for it. Now stop worrying," Rose pointed out.

Tommy knocked on the door. "Is everyone decent?"

"We're not ass naked if that's what you're asking," said Sam, tying back her Daenarys pyre braid with a bit of silky blue ribbon.

The Irishman entered, looking handsome in his Sunday best. He shifted, looking slightly awkward. "You all look absolutely gorgeous. He touched Sam's braid. "How did you do this?"

"Oh, it was easy. I saw it on Game of Thrones. I call it my Dany pyre braid."

Rose looked at the battered old grandfather clock in the corner. "We should get going soon. It's nearly ten."

She took Helga's left arm while Sam took her right. Tommy took Sam's other hand and together the group paraded onto the streets and made the (rather short) walk to St. Mary's Church.

Sam had never been to a Catholic wedding before that day and had no clue what to expect. Feasting? Dancing? Prayer? All three and more? **_Who the hell knows?_**

Whatever the case, she'd do her best to blend in. She could handle Tommy knowing about her Judaism. But as much as she trusted Jack, Rose, Fabri, Helga, the Dahls, and Cora, she had no way of knowing if they were anti Semitic or not.

Sam shrugged aside her worries and focused on the wedding. It involved a lot of standing and sitting back down again. Neither Fabrizio nor Helga could stop smiling. He kissed her, and the simple touching of lips symbolized the life that they would now share and the love they had built.

There were psalms, readings, more standing and sitting, and then it was done. The bridal party exited the church sanctuary and went into the large social hall.

There was so much food! Helga had never seen so much. There was a ham, loaves of bread, fruits, stews, wine...But the _piece de resistance_ was the cake, a beautiful lemon number with pearl-like frosting balls forming elegant spidery curlicues.

" _Dio mio!"_ Fabrizio gasped in wonder. "Who made all this?"

Nervously, Sam stepped forward. "It was me. I didn't know what you wanted for a wedding gift, so I just cooked. I've always had a knack for it anyway. May as well put it to good use."

"Thank you, Samantha. You did not have to," said Helga.

"I wanted to. You're both my friends. Besides, I've been dying to try out my mother's lemon cake recipe since I got my hands on it."

There was a band playing in one corner, comprised of Eugene Daly, the steerage piper from the ship, and David and John, two American brothers she had met at work who loved to peruse the library's tax law section. Dave was the fiddler, while John was the pianist.

The evening was full of singing, dancing, and feasting. She had specifically asked them to play Drowsie Maggie, as it had been the song that the couple of the hour had been dancing to on the night that they had met aboard that doomed ship.

Fabrizio broke his waltz with his new wife and came over to Sam and Tommy. "May I cut in?"

"Ah, fine, just don't steal my girl, " Tommy teased Fabrizio. They started to waltz, and talked.

"I am in a great debt to you, _signorina._ You saved our lives. You planned this day. You have become like a sister to me. If there is ever anything I can do to'a thank you, you have only to ask," he said gratefully.

"I've only done the things I've always wanted to do. Besides, the one thing I really truly want is something no one, man or woman, can get me," she said sadly.

"Can you tell me? I could help," Fabri offered. "One day, we'll talk about it. But right now, I can't," Sam said. Fabri nodded and the dance concluded.

"Sam, will you give us a song?" asked Tommy between mouthfuls of stew.

She nodded. "Well now, you've got me channeling my inner Demelza Carne."

 ** _I can't see the stars anymore living here_**

 ** _Let's go to the hills_**

 ** _Where the outlines are clear_**

 ** _Bring on the wonder_**

 ** _Bring on the song_**

 ** _I pushed you down deep in my soul_**

 ** _For too long_**

 ** _I fell through the cracks_**

 ** _At the end of our street_**

 ** _Let's go to the beach,_**

 ** _G_** ** _et the sand through our feet_**

 ** _Bring on the wonder_**

 ** _Bring on the song_**

 ** _I pushed you down deep in my soul_**

 ** _For too long_**

 ** _Bring on the wonder_**

 ** _We got it all wrong_**

 ** _We pushed you down deep in our souls_**

 ** _For too long_**

 ** _I don't have the time_**

 ** _For a drink from the cup_**

 ** _Let's rest for a while_**

 ** _Til our souls catch us up_**

 ** _Bring on the wonder_**

 ** _Bring on the song_**

 ** _I pushed you down deep in my soul_**

 ** _For too long_**

 ** _Bring on the wonder_**

 ** _We got it all wrong_**

 ** _We pushed you down deep in our souls,_**

 ** _So hang on_**

 ** _Bring on the wonder_**

 ** _Bring on the song_**

 ** _I pushed you down deep in my soul_**

 ** _For too long._** "

As she sang, she realized that the words rang true. She really had pushed Tommy into her soul. He had asked no questions and showered her with love from the second he looked at her for the first time, and in turn she had slapped him, pushed him away, screamed at him and blamed him for her problems. **_I feel like a real twatwaffle._**

Everyone in that hall clapped politely. She sat next to Tommy. "Beautiful as always, love," he complimented. Noticing her worry, he frowned. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I've been thinking. When Fabri danced with me, he asked if there was anything I could do to thank him," Sam told him.

"And? What did you say?"

"The truth. That what I wanted was something no one can give me."

"You want to go back to your own time." He said it in a hushed voice so the others would not hear.

The American girl did not deny it. "I dont know what I want in that regard. But I've no way to go back even did I want to. But I feel like an asshole lying to Fabrizio and the other survivors. It's not right, not proper, not honest, not kind. I need to tell them the truth. I need to tell them I'm from the future."


	15. Ghost From the Past

"Are you sure about this? You know as well as I that this could change the course of history," said a worried Tommy.

"Don't you understand? We have _already_ changed history. Remember what I said on Carpathia? The first time the ship sank only 705 lived. This time 1200 lived. We can't change the future because it's _already_ been changed," Sam told him.

So as they exited the church hand in hand, both tried to alleviate the anxiety of the coming revelation.

But it was not to be.

They got home and put away the leftover food in the icebox, to be re-enjoyed at a later time.

There was a knock at the door, and Tommy answered while Sam read a book. She unabashedly eavesdropped on the conversation.

"What do you mean, you share her secret? Who are you?" Tommy demanded.

"Does it matter? I need to talk to Sam!"

That voice...she knew it from somewhere. She filled a glass of water at the sink and went to welcome the stranger.

"Who is it? If it's that salesman again, I'll kick him in the-" she started. She dropped her glass in shock when she saw who it was at the door. Water and shattered glass went everywhere.

"Ho..ly shit. Mandy?!"

It was her all right. She looked out of place in her tattered jeans and faded t-shirt, but Sam would know that face anywhere.

"You know this girl?" Tommy asked, distrustful.

"Of course I know her. For fuck's sake, let her in! I thought I was the only one!"

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Tommy frustratedly shouted. He hated being left in the dark.

Mandy was soaking wet from the rain and shaking. Sam made her a cup of hot tea and gave her some dry clothes. When Mandy saw the skirt, she flat out refused to wear that monkey suit. But Sam beat her down.

While Mandy changed, Sam explained. "After my parents were killed, Uncle Jon got me piano lessons, hoping it would make me forget the accident. That's how I learned to play. Mandy and I had the same teacher. We became friends and stayed that way till college. After freshman year, we grew apart but we were still friendly. I haven't seen her for a full year."

"So she was a friend of yours...from your own time?"

"Yes. And that's what baffles me. I thought I was the only one to timejump. But she must have also."

Mandy came out, dressed like a true Edwardian woman but for her hair clamp. "Someone want to tell me what's happening?"

The two girls sat down. "What's the last thing you remember before coming here?" asked Sam.

"I was just reading, and I heard this wind. It got louder and louder. I was scared. Next thing I know I land a few blocks north of here. I looked at a newspaper and the date was May 16, 1912."

"But how did you find Sam?" asked Tommy.

"I asked around trying to find work. I heard of a woman with hair like hers who had saved many people on Titanic. That was a month ago. This is the first I've been able to find you."

Sam took a deep breath. "I know this sounds crazy. But...Jesus H fuck, how do I explain this? You've gone back in time. This is the year 1912."

"You've got to be joking!" said Mandy loudly.

"I wish it were true. But look at me, Mandy. I'm no liar and I'm sure as hell not crazy."

"But this is insane!" Mandy yelled. "Don't you yell at her!" said Tommy angrily.

"Both of you shut up! Mandy, I know this sounds crazy. Trust me, I went through it too. And Tommy, Mandy only just got here. She's been through a lot of crap. Yelling your heads off at one another isn't going to help anybody!" said Sam.

"So what do you suggest we do then?" asked Tommy. "Mandy coming here makes for all the more reason to tell the rest of the Circle," she said simply.

 _Meet me at my apartment in two days. You all deserve to know the truth about me._ She wrote this on scraps of paper and slipped it under each of her friends' front doors.

The two days went by, and the Titanic Circle, as she had dubbed the group, all met in her living room. Fabrizio, Helga, Jack and Rose sat near the fireplace. Olaf and Johanne Dahl were by a window. Cora was on Sam's lap. Tommy was by her side. Olaus preferred to stand near the light.

"Why have you called us here?" asked Rose.

"To tell a difficult truth."

"What truth?" asked Jack.

"The truth of how I came to be on Titanic," said Sam, bracing herself.

"But we know this. Fabri tell me you play poker and win tickets in pub," said Helga.

"It's easier to start from the start. My name is Samantha Herzog Miller. I'm 22, and I was born on May 9, 1994, 82 years from now. I'm from the future. If you don't believe me," she said, removing her high school class ring, "just look at the year listed on my ring. 2012. A century."

Everybody passes around the ring and examined it. "Dio mio! Is truth!" Fabrizio gasped. "It is _la volontà di Dio!"_

"I don't know what G-d's will is, Fabrizio. I don't even know if He exists. All I know is that He sent me here and I don't know how to get back," said Sam sadly.

"Does your friend over there have anything to do with any of this?" asked Jack, gesturing to Mandy, who stood next to Olaus.

"I'm Amanda Mullins. Sam and I were friends before she disappeared," said the red haired American girl. "You see, I thought I was the only one who had ever gone back in time. But I was wrong. It happened to Mandy here too," Sam explained.

The group was silent for a time until Rose spoke up. "I believe you. You may have saved all our lives that night. You didn't lie then, and I've no reason to believe that you are lying now."

The others gave nods of agreement.

"I'm with Rose," said Jack.

"I believe you, _signorina_."

"And I also. You tell truth." It was the first time Sam had heard Olaus talk. He kept shooting glances at Mandy, and Sam suspected him of having an even bigger crush on her than Fabrizio had had on Helga when they had met.

"I can get you a job at the market where I work. What can you do?" Tommy asked Mandy. "I've been told I'm good at baking," she said. "And I'm an early riser. "

"Friend need place to stay. Extra bed in my house," Olaus offered.

"You don't have to do that!" said Mandy, but Olaus wouldn't hear of it. "Want to."

"All right then. I guess this is the part where they say Meeting adjourned," said Sam.

"I hope you know I don't have any money to give you for rent," said Mandy to Olaus as they exited.

"Not matter. Will not leave friend of Sam on streets," he told her.

Mandy was surprised. "But why me?"

"Why not you?" was the Swede's response.

"Because for all you know I could be an axe murderer," Mandy pointed out. Olaus laughed. "You not axe murderer. You pretty girl." The compliment slipped from his lips before he could restrain himself. The poor guy looked horrified at what he had said, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw how unperturbed she was.

"I'm not pretty. I'm just me. Honestly that's all I really want to be," Mandy said.

Olaus was impressed. Here was a smart, simple woman with a good head on her shoulders. She was nothing like the women who he had courted back in Sweden. Could this be a good thing?


	16. New Friendship

And so Olaus took Mandy to the tenement apartment he shared with another Swedish family. "Is not much but is home," he said. "I walk you to work in morning? "

Mandy smiled and Olaus went weak in the knees. "I'd like that. G-d knows I could use some semblance of normalcy in my life."

"Sleep time now. Goodnight Mandy," Olaus said. The American girl smiled. "Night."

The next morning, Mandy woke up around five.

"Good morning," the smiling Swede greeted.

"Morning. Whatever you're cooking smells delicious. Sorry if I look like a zombie. I love mornings, but I hate waking up."

"I am not morning person either. But I don't think you look like zombie."

She chuckled. "Thanks. You know, you are a strange one."

Olaus and Mandy became fast friends. They had a lot in common. The talked together, they played chess and other games together and even cooked together.

After work, Olaus would walk to the bakery and pick Mandy up.

One day, she asked him something that he had hoped she wouldn't. "Will you tell me about your time on Titanic?"

"I was so afraid. My brother Bjorn and I were on the steerage deck when the iceberg hit," said Olaus in his heavily accented English.

"Oh, God. How horrible."

"We tried to get a lifeboat. But they were all full. There were life belts in our cabin, but they were forgotten in the rush. The halls were so crowded that you could hardly move. I finally got off by sneaking into a boat that had been sent down already from a lower deck. But my brother did not make it. I found him floating in the ocean, dead."

"I'm so sorry."

"Life can be cut short so abrubtly. Sometimes I feel like there is nobody to turn to," Mandy said, "like… like the world is an empty place. Do you know what I mean?"

Olaus just stared at his shoes.

"Nobody," she said. Hesitantly, he moved into her and started to kiss her. His lips were soft and warm and his kiss was kind.

 _No! I can't get involved with him!_

She broke away. "Have I said something?" he asked. "I can't love you. I'm so sorry," Mandy apologized. She did look sorry. "I think its best if we don't speak anymore."

She left him heartbroken. It was then that he realized that he was in love with this stranger, this timetraveler. Could such things even come to pass?

And yet, stranger things had happened. Christ knew Mandy being in 1914 was proof of that little fact.

She approached him the next day to explain herself. "I'm not of this time. I. not like Sam. I have a family and people that are looking for me. To love you would be to betray everything I've ever known."

"I do not think this. Love is not betrayal. Love is kind."

"It's hopeless to dream. Nothing ever comes of it."

The two of them danced around their feelings for the next four years. Four years of awkward small talk, unimportant chitchat, lowered eyes, how-was-your-day's, talking about the weather and longing looks framed the basis of a relationship that was sure to go nowhere.

Sure, there were sweet moments but for the most part the Swede and the American avoided one another and not without good reason. Time travel romance was all well and good in books. But Mandy had never in her wildest dreams imagined that her life (or someone else's life) could possibly turn into something out of an Outlander novel.

After all, it was crazy to fall for someone nearly a century in the past. Wasn't it? Yes, he was sweet and hot but also not what she needed. But needing and wanting are two different things after all.

Why and how was time travel possible? Why was it possible for people to leave their time and go to another?

And yet...he loved her. He loved her smile and her eyes. He loved her laugh, her sweet disposition and her difficulty with apologies when she made mistakes. She was his inspiration to be a better man.

And she liked him back. She came to him when she needed a someone to talk to and when she wanted to not be alone. There was this block between them which made her hesitate to trust him. And how can one love if one cannot trust?

But unfortunately for the both of them Mandy didn't trust herself not to get hurt or to not hurt Olaus in the process. She trusted absolutely no one. He could tell she wanted to love him but also that she couldn't for whatever reason.

This whole thing was insane after all. She had been thrust into an insane bullshit scenario through absolutely no fault of her own, but it tortured them both.

Mandy wanted to do the right thing, but no one can do the right thing if they don't know what the right thing is. The human spirit is a strong entity indeed but there's only so much it can handle before it starts to break down and begins to wither into dust, like the enamel bracelets she saw in Hindi movies.

It wasn't easy either, wanting a man she knew she could not have. It ate her alive from the inside out like what a colony of termites does to a house.

Olaus was impressed with the way she held out. She was stronger than he had initially thought, but that inner strength was also inner sadness.

It masked an anger that was just waiting to come out to play like the Trickster Coyote of the ancient Lakota legends she so dearly loved to study.

Shemissed her own time, and no one could return what had long been lost to her.

And so the great debate of whether to love each other began.

What a freaking mess.


	17. War

_July 12, 1917_

 _Three years later  
_

"What are you thinking about, sweet Sammy?" Tommy asked as he absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over her bare shoulder. The two lovers were once again abed together, and he was getting more and more bold with their sex life.

"I'm thinking that I'm still a little shocked. You could have had your pick of I don't even know how many other women in the world and you chose me. Why?" she asked.

"Aye, I suppose that's true enough. But it was you I fell in love with," he pointed out, gently fondling her big, soft breasts, largish thumb circling the pink nipple.

Sam gave a small moan of pleasure. "If I did not know you, it wouldn't be your eyes I stared into"-he kissed each closed eye-"or your lips I kissed"-he kissed her with enough fire and passion to make her love him all the more-"or your breasts I touched"-he licked her boobs and she mewled in pleasure-"or your soft stomach that I press against when we cuddle"- he rested his hand aginst her midsection-"or your walls that I entered."

At this he slowly slid a finger in. God, but she felt amazing! "Slippery as waterweed," he growled like the sexy beast she believed him to be. "Oh, please, Tommy, I need you in me!" she whimpered. Grinning, he positioned himself so that she would be the most comfortable. His lips found the sensitive bundle of nerves and he kissed it. It was large and engorged from the pleasure, and he kissed her again as his thumb circled her clit.

Sam gripped his bottom and pulled it towards her as he thrusted. She could feel herself getting more and more wet with each movement. She pulled him to her and kissed, long and hard and deep. Tongues explored, hands flailed, and after about ten to fifteen minutes of sex, she felt her orgasm coming on. "Faster, harder," she urged. "Don't be gentle. Don't stop, oh, please, don't stop!"

"Let go, Sammy. Just feel," he urged her.

And then she came, stuffing the corner of the blanket into her mouth to stifle her moaning. Tommy also released, and exhausted from the force of it, slumped down on top of her. He hugged her close and kissed her with all he had.

"How does it feel, for a woman?" he asked, after. "I like the feeling of a penis in sliding in and out, and for me, it feels a bit like peeing in my pants," Sam pointed out. He rested his hand on her soft stomach and rubbed. "Someday I hope you and I will have children together," Tommy murmured.

"It's possible, but unlikely. You see, in my time, women have so many options as far as contraceptives. There are condoms, shots, pills, rings, patches, foams, gels, implants...all sorts of shit. The method I chose was the intrauterine device, called the IUD for short. It lasts for ten years and I'm still on Year Two," she said, giving him a look.

"Women are much more free in your time than they are here, aren't they? " Tommy asked.

"We have the right to choose what happens with their bodies, in any time period. I won't be some baby factory just because some Repug has a stick up his ass," she declared.

"I would never force you to have children. If you don't want them, then we won't have them. But do you ever believe you will change your mind?" he asked.

"Maybe. Maybe one day when I have more patience and more money. But right now, that day has not arrived," said Sam.

"For what it's worth, I do think you'd be a good mother," he told her.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Be with you in a mo!" Tommy called. Quickly, the two lovers got dressed and Sam sat at the window seat.

It was a letter carrier. "Thomas Ryan?" he asked.

Tommy nodded. "Aye, I'm Tommy. Who's askin'?"

"Yeah, who the hell are you?" Sam asked from her perch.

"I've been sent to give you this," the letterman said, handing Tommy an envelope.

After Mr. Mail was gone, Tommy sliced it open with a letter opener.

He went white as a sheet. "What is it?" Sam demanded, knowing immediately that something was wrong. She snatched the note out of his hands and read it. She nearly fainted.

It was a conscription letter.

* * *

"You can't go! Do you have any idea how many people are going to die in this war? I almost lost you once already, and I'll be damned if the only man I've ever truly loved is going to go off to I don't even know where! You will die in the trenches!" Sam shouted, tossing the letter aside.

"Sammy, don't you get it? I have no choice. I registered for the draft knowing damn well what could happen. We have to show the Germans that they won't beat us in the end!" said Tommy.

"GET OFF YOUR PATRIOTIC HIGH HORSE! You will die if you go off to war!"

"DON'T YOU THINK I UNDERSTAND THAT, YOU BITCH?"

Sam flinched.

Seeing what he had done, he immediately apologized. "I'm sorry. I have no choice."

"You have a choice to stay with me or die in the trenches. If I were you I'd pick the obvious one," she spat. "I can't even look at you right now.

* * *

But Sam lost the battle, and a week later, the whole Circle was at the train station. Tommy wasn't the only one shipping out for the war at that station. Wives said tearful goodbyes to their husbands. Girlfriends tried to be brave for their boyfriends. Children cried for their fathers. And some had no one to send them off.

"I will miss all of you so much," he said. Poor Sam was shaking and biting her lip, trying not to cry. It took all his composure not to melt into her arms and never let go. "I know you don't want me to go," he said softly. "I also know I have no more choice in this than you do."

He looked so handsome in his uniform. She allowed herself a look at him. "I'm trying to think of something sarcastic or romantic to say and so far, I'm coming up dry," she confessed.

"You don't have to say anything." He kissed her like it was his last night in the world. She slipped him a package. "There's photos of all of us in there and some food from me. I figured you could use some decent food. I love you, Tommy Ryan. Come back to me."

It was only after he had boarded his train with one final wave and the train had pulled away that Sam let the tears flow free. Mandy held her as she let out deep, racking sobs, and wept as if her heart would break.


	18. Letters

Tommy opened the letter in secret, when he thought his comrades-in arms were all sleeping. He caressed the paper, visualizing Sam writing it by lamplight. He read it in a whisper.

 _"August 10, 1917_

 _Dear Tommy,_

 _It's strange being on my own again. I have work and I have Cora to look after, but since shipping out you've left a huge vacancy in all our lives. It's too quiet without you. I still half expect you to come barging in through my door and making me laugh like always, but you never do, and I'm always reminded of why. I wish Archduke Ferdinand had never been killed. Don't get me wrong, I didn't know the guy or his politics, but if he still lived you and I would be together. But I try to put on a brave face for you and Cora. She's the closest I'll ever have to a child of my own._

 _And of course there's the rest of the Titanic Circle to think about. Olaus and Mandy seem to be hitting it off but who knows if that will go anywhere. I do think he has a crush on her though. Poor guy gets so flustered and nervous around her that it couldn't be more obvious. But I think she's just trying to keep her head down and not get into any trouble. I wonder if she's going about this the right way?_

 _Please stay safe, sweetheart. I love you._

 _Sammy."_

"Who's Sammy?"

Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

It was Private Nathan Lane, from San Francisco. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to scare you. I just couldn't sleep."

"It's fine. Sammy's my girlfriend," Tommy explained. He showed the other lad his one photo of her. Nathan whistled. "She's a keeper, that one. What's she like?"

He smiled wistfully. "She's the strongest woman I know."

* * *

"What is that?" Jack asked Sam as they played checkers.

"It's a letter, from Tommy. Want me to read it to you?"

"Sure, why not?"

 _"August 20, 1917_

 _Dear Sammy,_

 _Hearing from you is the only thing that really keeps me going. You owe me five dollars; I knew Olaus was in love with your friend. He'll tell her how he feels all right. Didn't I tell you? I don't know her as well as you do, but the two of you seem to be thick as thieves._

 _How is everybody? How is Cora coping with my being gone? What's the betting that Fabrizio will have finished Crime and Punishment before I come back? Has Olaf warmed up to him yet? What about Helga? How's her English coming along? That's the worst part about being in the thick of it all; knowing nothing about the people you love._

 _It's been only been a few weeks since I shipped out. France would be beautiful were it not for the war. There are nights when I think of you and Cora and nights when I think of my time back in Ireland. My life then and my life now You've be much different but for you. I'm not afraid to die. But I am scared to leave you and Cora behind. You say Gryffindor is the house of bravery. I'm not brave. But I am yours. The other day, I had a beer with two Scottish fellows. Yesterday they both died in the trenches. It's different here than back home. You have to treat every day like its your last because here, it very well could be. Every day, I see innocents killed indiscriminately and it infuriates me. I just want it to end so I can come back to you. I love you._

 _Love from your bonny soldier lad,_

 _Tommy."_

"He once accused me of being in love with a girl who was way out of my league," Jack pointed out. "Now it's him that's lovestruck."

"I learned a long time ago to never let go of love," said Sam. "I almost lost him once. Losing him would not just kill me, it would destroy me."

"You know, you don't always have to be so brave for him," Jack said as he took her king. "It's okay to be scared shitless. We all were on Titanic."

"Maybe, but there is a huge difference between a sinking ship and a freaking war."

"Not really. They're both terrifying and insane situations."

"Any way you slice it, I am afraid. Not just for Tommy but for all the poor unfortunate mother's sons who've been called to serve."

* * *

"So how did you meet this Sammy of yours anyway?" Nathan asked.

Tommy sighed. "We were on Titanic together, in third class."

"You were on Titanic?" asked Nathan. "That had to have been scary as hell."

Tommy nodded. "It was. I got shot and she was hit by one of those hatesticks that the cops use."

"Enough talk. Read the letter, go on!" said Captain Jeremiah Phillips from Ohio.

"Fine then."

 _"September 1, 1917_

 _Dear Tommy,_

 _It's September first, and this is the day you were supposed to go to Hogwarts with me, or Ilvermorny at the very least. I'll skin you alive for making me miss that train. Just kidding! (Or am I? Cue evil cackle here!)_

 _I'm sorry. Joking around is my way of coping with you not being here. I just hope I've been brave enough to be yours. In all honesty though, I'm scared shitless of losing you. Your friends sound like a lot of fun. Just be careful. I know I say this every letter but it's true, and that goes for all of you reading over Tommy's shoulder._

 _Please come back to me._

 _Sammy.'_

* * *

And then the letters stopped. Three months went by and nothing. The whole Circle worried for their lo

Tommy opened the letter in secret, when he thought his comrades-in arms were all sleeping. He caressed the paper, visualizing Sam writing it by lamplight. He read it in a whisper.

 _"August 10, 1917_

 _Dear Tommy,_

 _It's strange being on my own again. I have work and I have Cora to look after, but since shipping out you've left a huge vacancy in all our lives. It's too quiet without you. I still half expect you to come barging in through my door and making me laugh like always, but you never do, and I'm always reminded of why. I wish Archduke Ferdinand had never been killed. Don't get me wrong, I didn't know the guy or his politics, but if he still lived you and I would be together. But I try to put on a brave face for you and Cora. She's the closest I'll ever have to a child of my own._

 _And of course there's the rest of the Titanic Circle to think about. Olaus and Mandy seem to be hitting it off but who knows if that will go anywhere. I do think he has a crush on her though. Poor guy gets so flustered and nervous around her that it couldn't be more obvious. But I think she's just trying to keep her head down and not get into any trouble. I wonder if she's going about this the right way?_

 _Please stay safe, sweetheart. I love you._

 _Sammy."_

"Who's Sammy?"

Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

It was Private Nathan Lane, from San Francisco. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to scare you. I just couldn't sleep."

"It's fine. Sammy's my girlfriend," Tommy explained. He showed the other lad his one photo of her. Nathan whistled. "She's a keeper, that one. What's she like?"

He smiled wistfully. "She's the strongest woman I know."

* * *

"What is that?" Jack asked Sam as they played checkers.

"It's a letter, from Tommy. Want me to read it to you?"

"Sure, why not?"

"August 20, 1917

 _Dear Sammy,_

 _Hearing from you is the only thing that really keeps me going. You owe me five dollars; I knew Olaus was in love with your friend. He'll tell her how he feels all right. Didn't I tell you? I don't know her as well as you do, but the two of you seem to be thick as thieves._

 _How is everybody? How is Cora coping with my being gone? What's the betting that Fabrizio will have finished Crime and Punishment before I come back? Has Olaf warmed up to him yet? What about Helga? How's her English coming along? That's the worst part about being in the thick of it all; knowing nothing about the people you love._

 _It's been only been a few weeks since I shipped out. France would be beautiful were it not for the war. There are nights when I think of you and Cora and nights when I think of my time back in Ireland. My life then and my life now You've be much different but for you. I'm not afraid to die. But I am scared to leave you and Cora behind. You say Gryffindor is the house of bravery. I'm not brave. But I am yours. The other day, I had a beer with two Scottish fellows. Yesterday they both died in the trenches. It's different here than back home. You have to treat every day like its your last because here, it very well could be. Every day, I see innocents killed indiscriminately and it infuriates me. I just want it to end so I can come back to you. I love you._

 _Love from your bonny soldier lad,_

 _Tommy."_

"He once accused me of being in love with a girl who was way out of my league," Jack pointed out. "Now it's him that's lovestruck."

"I learned a long time ago to never let go of love," said Sam. "I almost lost him once. Losing him would not just kill me, it would destroy me."

"You know, you don't always have to be so brave for him," Jack said as he took her king. "It's okay to be scared shitless. We all were on Titanic."

"Maybe, but there is a huge difference between a sinking ship and a freaking war."

"Not really. They're both terrifying and insane situations."

"Any way you slice it, I am afraid. Not just for Tommy but for all the poor unfortunate mother's sons who've been called to serve."

* * *

"So how did you meet this Sammy of yours anyway?" Nathan asked.

Tommy sighed. "We were on Titanic together, in third class."

"You were on Titanic?" asked Nathan. "That had to have been scary as hell."

Tommy nodded. "It was. I got shot and she was hit by one of those hatesticks that the cops use."

"Enough talk. Read the letter, go on!" said Captain Jeremiah Phillips from Ohio.

"Fine then."

 _"September 1, 1917_

 _Dear Tommy,_

 _It's September first, and this is the day you were supposed to go to Hogwarts with me, or Ilvermorny at the very least. I'll skin you alive for making me miss that train. Just kidding! (Or am I? Cue evil cackle here!)_

 _I'm sorry. Joking around is my way of coping with you not being here. I just hope I've been brave enough to be yours. In all honesty though, I'm scared shitless of losing you. Your friends sound like a lot of fun. Just be careful. I know I say this every letter but it's true, and that goes for all of you reading over Tommy's shoulder._

 _Please come back to me._

 _Sammy."_

"You love this woman?" asked Phillips.

"Hard not to."

BOOM!

The world exploded, and shrapnel flew everywhere. "Take cover!" Tommy yelled. But there was nowhere to hide. It was chaos, pure chaos. Men lay dead everywhere in the trenches. Tommy held onto his helmet and gas mask and ran for his life. A blinding pain hit him in the head, and the world went black.

* * *

And then, the letters stopped, with no rhyme or reason to it. The whole Circle worried for their lost Irishman, but no one was more anxious or scared than Sam. She had nightmares and looked like sleep wasn't her friend. She spoke less and less. "He'll be all right. He could have been struck to the head and gotten amnesia. I've heard of soldiers coming back home with no memory of their lives," said Mandy one day. Sam only looked out the window sadly, touching her window flowers. "You'd better go home, Mandy. Haven't you got work tomorrow?" was all she said.

And one day, someone rang the doorbell. It was the same messenger soldier who had given Tommy his conscription letter. She opened the note. "What is it?" Fabrizio asked. "It's a telegram from Presbyterian Hospital. Tommy's been wounded. Something about a head injury."


	19. Memory

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mandy asked as they rode the tram to Presbyterian Hospital. "I know how much you love him. What if seeing him like that upsets you?"

"If I can handle him getting shot on a sinking ship I can handle anything, " she muttered under her breath.

"You're right. I'm sorry for doubting you. I just wanted to make sure you are ready for this," said Mandy.

"You haven't changed one bit, have you?" Sam said fondly. "You spend so much time worrying about other people, I can't help but wonder if you're taking proper care of yourself."

As they disembarked the tram, Sam looked at the paper again. "This is it. 234 East 70th."

"Excuse me, we're looking for Tommy Ryan, from Belfast, Ireland," said Mandy to the receptionist. "We're friends of his."

"One minute," said Receptionist Lady. She flipped through her files. "Yes, he's in room 206. Enter quietly please. He may be sleeping."

They took the stairs to the second floor. Quietly, Sam opened the door.

"Hello? Who's there?" asked Tommy.

"It's me, sweetheart. It's your Sammy."

Tommy tensed. "Do I know you?"

 _He can't remember anything._

"Do you know who either of us are?" asked Mandy.

"No, I'm sorry. I've never seen either of you in my life."

Sam didn't even make it into the hallway before the tears started to roll.

"What was that about?" Tommy asked. "She's your girlfriend. I'll go talk to her," said Mandy.

She found Sam on the outside bench, weeping as if her heart would break, which it probably just had.

Mandy didn't know what to say to comfort her, so she just let her cry.

Sam came back the next day, this time alone.

"Look, I've already said I don't know who you are!" he said sharply.

"I know you don't remember me. But I've brought some photos. Just tell me if any of them look familiar."

She lay the first photo on the bed. It was a shot of Fabri.

"This is your friend, Fabrizio diRossi. You met him when we sailed on Titanic."

"Fabrizio? He's Italian?"

"That's right. Here's him again with his wife Helga Dahl," she said, laying down a second photograph. "Is any of this looking familiar to you?"

He shook his head and Sam's heart sank. She set down a third and final photo. It was her last, most desperate hope.

"This one's of you and me!" said Tommy in surprise. "So we do know one another? "

"Yes. We do," Sam told him. But knowing facts and knowing memories are two different things.

She came back each day with more reminders of their past together. But the photos and letters didnt do anything.

Tommy was allowed to go home a week before Thanksgiving of that year. Whetn he saw the double bed, he balked. "Where will I sleep?"

"This bed is for both of us, sweetheart. Before you were...before you got hurt, we slept here almost each night," Sammy explained.

"But we're not married!" Tommy said, clearly scandalized. "It would ruin both our reputations."

"Well then you take the bed and I'll go to the couch!" Sam burst out. She turned to face the wall, trying not to cry.

"Stop. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. All this is just so new to me. I don't know how to process any of this," said Tommy. He hesitantly placed his hand on her arm. "I do want the bed. But you can take it if you want it."

Later that night he could hear her crying into her pillow. He rose and lay down with her without a word and held her as she wept. She didn't resist.

 _This poor girl must have loved me something fierce. I wish I could remember her. I know the connection between us is there. I can feel it._

A few days later, Fabrizio had come over to reteach Tommy how to play checkers. As the Irishman took Fabri's king, he looked at him suddenly. "I know you."

"Si, I am Fabrizio. You know my name," the Italian said. "No," Tommy insisted. "I remember your face."

"What do you remember?" Sam askted urgently. "I remember...a huge ship," said Tommy thoughtfully.

Sam grew excited. "Black body, white topstripe, four orange funnels with black tops?"

"Yes. How did you know that?" asked Tommy.

"Because all three of us were on that ship. It was the Titanic, and it's how we met."

"What happened to the ship?" Tommy asked.

"It hit an iceberg and sank. We were lucky to get out alive," said Fabrizio sadly.

"Some people don't know the value of their lives until it's taken away from them," said Sammy.

Weeks passed, and Tommy still could not remember his life with her. "I want so badly to know Sammy, to remember the life she and I must have shared at some point. But I try and I try and I try and I just can't," he said to Fabrizio. "And it's hurting that poor girl so much and I hate that I can't make her happy the way I once did. She's a sweet girl, and I hate seeing her so miserable. What can I do?"

"Take her out to dinner. It may'a make her smile, or at least forget for a few hours," said Fabri, handing him some money.

So Tommy decided to surprise her. He tied a blindfold around her eyes. "Where are we going? I can't see anything," she said.

"Just a few more steps. Mind your staep and voila!" he said, taking the blindfold off. They were at Katz's Deli. "You're taking a girl who you don't remember out on a date?"

"It isn't a date. But you needed a break from what's going on with me. "

They sat down and ordered some salads with egg creams. "I want to be the man you love. I just need to know how," said Tommy.

"You haven't lost your romantic side, I see," said Sam, cracking a smile. Tommy smiled, picking up a rose from the vase and handing it to her. He closed her fingers around the stem of the flower. "Like that?"

After dinner, the two estranged lovers went walking. "Do you ever resent me for not knowing you?" he asked suddenly.

"What? No, of course not! But it's difficult, knowing that the man I love has no fucking clue who the hell I am," she told him, looking more dejected than ever.

"Please don't swear. It isn't ladylike," Tommy insisted. "You never used to mind my swearing," said Sam sadly. "In fact, I'm convinced that you even liked it."

"It may just be the amnesia talking but there is something strange about you, all right," said Tommy. Hesitantly, he took her hand. "You are so beautiful."

And then he was kissing her, with his hands running through her hair and up the small of her back and _holy shit this is happening_ and there were fireworks and _they were kissing_.

 _This isn't right_ , Sam thought. _He has no memory of me._

"No!" she cried, wriggling free of his embrace. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"What is it? Have I said something?" asked Tommy, alarmed. "If you're going to kiss me, let it be out of love for the girl you know," she said. Without a word, Tommy walked her home.

The next day, Tommy was out grocery shopping, but Sam suspected he'd wisely decided to avoid her as much as possible. Mandy came over for a visit. She noticed that Sam seemed sad. "What is it?"

"Tommy kissed me last night," Sammy explained. "And I didn't stop him."

The other woman's eyes went wide. "What the shit? He remembered you? That's excellent!"

Sammy stared at the wall, lip quivering suspiciously. Bullet tears ran down her fair skinned cheeks.

"He still doesn't know me. He wants to remember me, Mandy. I know he does. But he can't, and it's eating him alive as much as it is me, if not more," she sobbed. She could literally feel her heart cracking in two, fibers snapping and all.

Mandy was troubled to see her friend so distressed. She sat her down and held her close. "You have had the kind of love many people would gladly die for. Not everybody can say that. Oh, you poor thing. You've spent so much time caring for others. Let us care for you."

As Sam slept that night, she thought she heard whimpering. She went over to the couch, where Tommy was. He was moaning in his sleep. He woke with a jolt. "Don't let me drown!" he yelled, wild eyed.

"Hey, hey, hey! Easy, it's only me. It's just me," said Sam, rubbing his back to soothe him. "You must have had a nightmare. Tell me what happened."

He lay his head in her lap and began to tell her about his dream.

"There was the ship you told me about, the Titanic. It was terrible. The ship was arse first in the air. There was a little girl, no more than five, flloating facefirst in the water, dead. People were frozen and screaming." He shuddered in fear. "I guess that means you're starting to remember," said Sam quietly.

"Knowing what happened and actually seeing it are two different things," said Tommy, voice choking. She got up but Tommy stopped her. "Please don't go.I don't want to be alone."

He looked like a scared little kid. "All right," said Sam. "Let's share the bed."

They crawled between the sheets and just held one another. In the morning, he woke up first and looked at her. _She is so kind and beautiful. How could I have forgotten her?_

And then, his memories returned.

 _They were talking about books._

 _They were dancing together to John Ryan's Polka._

 _They were kissing on the bench in third class._

 _They were running to catch a lifeboat._

 _She was at his bedside aboard Carpathia, scared._

 _They were reunited at Ellis Island._

 _They were having sex._

 _They were saying a tearful goodbye at the train station._

Sam stirred and woke. "Good morning."

"Sammy. Oh, my sweet Sammy," he whispered. "I remember everything." He kissed her, and it was a kiss of love and lust and loss.

 _ **I have my Tommy back.**_

They celebrated with their bodies. He ran his hands over her soft stomach and traced the stretch marks. "Your imperfections make you perfect."

He could feel her soft, warm body underneath him, and he caressed her thighs, while he slowly began to thrust inside of her.


	20. A Happy Beginning

_**Hanukkah/Thanksgiving 1918**_

 _ **"There's no storm we can't outrun**_

 _ **We will always find the sun**_

 _ **Leave the past and all its scars**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours!"**_

 _ **-Once Upon a Time**_

It was a cold November night. The wind howled, and flurries of snow fell. Sam added another few twigs to the wood burning stove, on which several pots and pans sat, bubbling and boiling away. Latkes were frying in one pan, oil spattering onto the floral print wallpaper.

As Sammy smelled the delicious fried food, there was a knock at the front door. "It's me!" yelled Tommy. "It's open!" yelled Sam.

"Jesus, it's cold out there," he said, setting his coat down. A pair of strong arms snaked around her, and he nuzzled her cheek. "Something smells delicious."

"I'm making latkes, potato pancakes. Its customary to eat fried food on Hanukkah," she said.

"When will the others be here?" asked the Irishman. "I told them to come at seven but it's not a problem if they come earlier."

As if to prove a point, Fabrizio and Helga, the Dahls, Mandy and Olaus, Jack and Rose came bursting in. Sam took everyone's coats and put them on her bed.

"Something smells great," said Jack. "Im making latkes. Come in and eat!" said Sam.

As the group ate, Sam clinked her wineglass. "I'd like to propose a toast." Everyone stopped what they were doing.

"Some people think fate is all bullshit. Hell, I used to be one of them. But in a way, fate brought me onto Titanic. Fate led me to Tommy. And to all of you." Sam held up her wineglass. "To fate!"

"To love!" said Tommy.

"To life!" said Jack.

"To time travel!" said Mandy.

After a delicious dinner of latkes, turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, applesauce and sour cream, there was dancing. Helga found an old sqeeze box and Sam played all her favorites on the little old Steinway piano in the corner.

Olaus noticed Mandy lurking in a corner and approached her shyly. "Dance with me?"

"I'm no dancer," said the American girl. "Please?" asked Olaus softly, holding out a hand. He was shy, but kind.

"I'm sorry," Mandy apologized. "For what?" asked Olaus. "Being an ass. You were always so kind to me and all I ever did was ignore you. You deserve better than that, Olaus," she explained as he twirled her around to the music.

"It is fine. This world, this time, is still strange to you. I understand this," said Olaus.

"But I was so unkind to you."

"Unkindness does not matter. Only love."

She stopped dancing. "Olaus, are you...in love with me?"

His silence was louder than a jackhammer. "Finally," breathed Mandy. Gently, he kissed her, moving his hand up the small of her back.

Someone wolf whistled, and the two of them came crashing down to earth again. "I forgot we weren't alone," said Mandy, giggling. Her laughter sounded like a peal of bells. "Sing for me?" asked Olaus.

"Please! I'm tired of being the singer in our little group," said Sam. Mandy sighed. "Fine, if it will shut you both up."

She racked her heart for the perfect song. Finally, she found it. The song she was going to sing was perfect because it was about finally securing a happy ending after years of darkness.

 _ **omorrow is uncertain**_

 _ **Who knows what it will bring?**_

 _ **But one thing is for sure, love**_

 _ **With you, I have everything**_

 _ **A happily ever after**_

 _ **Is the way these stories go**_

 _ **Used to think that's what I wanted**_

 _ **But now I finally know...**_

 _ **There's no storm we can't outrun**_

 _ **We will always find the sun**_

 _ **Leave the past and all its scars**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours**_

 _ **We celebrate together**_

 _ **A longtime wish come true**_

 _ **What makes it even better**_

 _ **Today our story starts anew**_

 _ **Let villains cast their curses**_

 _ **We can overcome them all**_

 _ **If we all stand strong together**_

 _ **There's no way we can fall**_

 _ **There's no storm we can't outrun**_

 _ **We will always find the sun**_

 _ **Leave the past and all its scars**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours**_

 _ **If we're facing endless night**_

 _ **Take my hand and join the fight**_

 _ **Past the clouds we'll find the stars**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours**_

 _ **There's no storm we can't outrun**_

 _ **We will always find the sun**_

 _ **Leave the past and all its scars**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours**_

 _ **If we're facing endless night**_

 _ **Facing endless night**_

 _ **Take my hand and join the fight**_

 _ **Come and join the fight**_

 _ **Past the clouds we'll find the stars**_

 _ **Oh, we'll find**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours!**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours!"**_

"That was really pretty. What song was that?" asked Sam. "It's from the Once Upon a Time Musical episode," said Mandy. "I chose that one because it's true. After years of darkness we all finally have our happy beginning."

"Wow. I never thought of it that way," said Sam. "Come on, everybody, its time to light the menorah!"

She had propped up a beautiful silver menorah on her countertop, where it gleamed ostentatiously. Look here, it seemed to say. Look here and let your fears melt away.

Sam took the candle on the tallest holder, called the shamash (helper) and used it to light the others from right to left. As she lit the candle, she reflected.

How far they had all come. They had gone from bedraggled, freezing and traumatized survivors of the sinking of the not so unsinkable Ship of Dreams to productive people who were determined to make their home in New York.

 _I was nothing more than a sad, scared, broken little girl before. But I found friends and love and happiness, and I finally feel complete._

"Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai E-lo-he-nu Me-lech ha-olam a-sher ki-de-sha-nu be-mitz-vo-tav ve-tzi-va-nu le-had-lik ner Cha-nu-kah. Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Chanukah lightshe said. She lit the first candle.

She picked up the menorah and set it in the window for all to see. She and the others went back to the dining table.

"I'd like to propose a second toast," said Tommy. _He's fidgety as all holy fuck. Something's up._ "I want to raise a glass to my beautiful Sammy. She saved all our lives and has been the light of my life ever since." He looked at her tenderly, and Sam blushed.

"I'd be lost without her," he continued. "She stuck with me when we were separated on Titanic. She stayed by my side when we went through Ellis Island. She never left me when we were still navigating our new lives. She never gave up on me when I got hurt in the war. I love you, Sammy girl, forever. Be mine, in this life and all the lives to come. Will you, Samantha Herzog Miller, do me the honor of becoming my wife?" he asked, eternal hope and love shining in his gorgeous melted-chocolate eyes.

She rose, not quite sure what to say. She glanced around the table, seeing the expectant looks on her friends' faces.

"Yes," she said calmly. Tommy and the others let out scream-sighs of relief. "But I can't become yours in any life."

The Irishman blanched. "Why not?" Seeing his distress, she decided to go easy on him. "Because I'm already yours. I gave you my heart when you kissed me for the very first time, and both it and I have been yours since then, as you have been mine."

He pulled her in and kissed her like it was their last night in this world.

 _ **Christmas 1918**_

As Tommy decorated their Christmas tree, he felt his wife's hand slip into his. "Hey, sweetheart," he greeted. They kissed, long and deep. She tasted of red wine and apples. "I have something to tell you," said Sam.

"Oh?" asked Tommy.

"I'm pregnant."

His expression softened to one of joy, and he picked her up and twirled her around.

Over the next months, Sam prepared herself mentally to become a mother. One night, when she was about eight months along, as she and Tommy sat on the couch together, he confessed.

"I'm scared," he confessed. "Of what?" asked Sam. Tommy sighed and put his hand on her belly. "I'm afraid of losing you in childbirth."

She took his hand and moved it to the swell of her belly. "Listen. Do you feel her kicking?"

Tommy nodded. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither is she." He looked at her with tenderness and care in his eyes. "I love you both." He wrapped a blanket around her and kissed her forehead.

She got up to make some tea and suddenly, she started to sway. He caught her gently and set her down.

"What is it? What's wrong?" asked Tommy, alarmed. "I must have stood up too quickly," she said. Tommy sighed. "Sammy. You're almost nine months pregnant. You have to take care of yourself. Please," he begged. She sighed, knowing full well he was right.

He handed her the hot mug and she accepted it gratefully. "What would I do without you?"

 _ **August 16, 1919**_

Sam was napping when the first contraction hit. "Easy there," said Tommy. I've got you."

She gave birth at home, with a midwife named Alice attending. Alice wouldn't let Tommy in, but he was allowed to wait outside the tenement. Finally he could take it no longer and burst into the apartment. "Mr. Ryan, for the last time, you cannot be here!" Alice said sternly.

He brushed her off. "Are Sammy and the baby okay?" The midwife nodded. "You have a daughter. But your wife is still very sore and very tired."

"Hey," said Sam, sitting up. Her black curls were still damp from labor. She was holding a newborn baby, and Tommy realized that this was their daughter. My daughter.

Sam handed her to Tommy, and he smiled. "Look what we made together. Do you have a name picked out?"

"Marie for my mother. Marie Herzog Miller Ryan," Sam said proudly. He set the baby down gently in the crib and kissed his young wife's temple. "I am so proud of you, my sweet Sammy."

He got into bed with her and held her as she slept, reflecting on his family.

 _ **There's no storm we can't outrun**_

 _ **We will always find the sun**_

 _ **Leave the past and all its scars**_

 _ **A happy beginning now is ours!**_


End file.
